


roll a dice

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actor Shiro, Alternate Universe, Bodyguard Keith, Coming Out, Hunk/Shay in the way background, M/M, Secret Relationship, Shiro & Allura are pretend dating/each others beards, intimacy porn, protective keith, temporarily running away from your problems to find a solution to said problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:06:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Keith’s cool fingers curl around the back of his neck and squeeze gently. The touch is filled with understanding and sympathy. “You don’t have to keep doing this.” The reminder stirs a complicated mess of emotions inside Shiro - irritation because he knows that, resignation because he has to keep the act up, and the wild foolish thought of what if I did drop the act and come out as bi? After four years of doing one movie after another, following his schedules down to the letter, and meeting every demand made of him, Shiro could surely stop pretending. --AU where Shiro's a closeted actor struggling to keep up the lie that he's straight. Keith takes him away for a quick break but you can only avoid your problems long enough before you need to decide how you're going to tackle them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Before Nanowrimo started, I knew I wanted to write an "Into You" AU. As in, an AU based off the Ariana Grande song, "Into You". And my fool self kept putting it off because "Ugh! It's going to be like, 5-7k words and I don't want that because that'll take me 2-3 days to write and I want a story I can wrap up in one night!"
> 
> But then I was doing Nanowrimo and I hit my target on day 12 (or was it 13?) and needed a break. I saw this idea in my writing list and went, "Okay, I'm ready to write this 7k long idea."
> 
> And now, over a month later and totaling a fair 23k words, I give you the "Into You" AU that grew pretty big because I decided I'd rather write a coming out story. I hope I didn't miss anything important in the additional tags...
> 
> Special thanks to Mimi & Stitch for their suggestions, feedback, and beta-ing help. You both are angels <3 Thank you None-san for all your encouragement <3 [Also, CatNico, you got your successful come back like I promised ;) ]
> 
> Merry Sheith-mas! I hope y'all like this one!
> 
> EDIT: [Priince made the most WONDERFUL commission for this fic so please check it out! Reblog here and show him loads of love!](https://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/161655375590/prllnce-i-want-to-stop-faking-im-happy-i)

As soon as Jenny’s got her back to him, Shiro falls back on the double bed with a ‘fwomp’. Screw taking his tie off, screw this stupid movie tour, and screw the fact that he’s wearing a $3,000 designer suit that shouldn’t be subjected to the physical manifestation of his morose mood.

 

It’s a nice suit though, Shiro will give it that. Rich, deep blue in color. Silky smooth and butter soft in texture. It feels nice as he presses the crook of his elbow harder against his closed eyes. But he really _shouldn’t_ be curled up in a fetal position while wearing it. Shiro can imagine the aggravated noises his stylist, Angelo, is going to make when he’ll see the wrinkles.

 

The soft murmur of Keith and Jenny’s voices halts, followed by the sound of the door closing and locking with a sharp click. Shiro thinks about letting his hand drop so he can see Keith approach but he’s too tired. He doesn’t want to move. He just wants to stay on this bed for a week.

 

Shiro exhales, body heavy with tiredness. The four hours he’s spent rubbing shoulders and making nice with executives and Hollywood’s ‘movers and shakers’ with a fake smile on his face are catching up to him.  As he listens to Keith’s quiet footfalls approaching, Shiro wonders when is it going to start getting easier. Will it ever?

 

As Keith sits down, mattress sinking in gently near Shiro’s head. He sighs again. The bone deep weariness that’s been chasing him for weeks flirts with him, tracing sharp-tipped nails against his cheek before nipping at his neck with canine teeth.

 

“You did good,” Keith praises him, gloved palm coming to rest on top of Shiro’s head.

 

The touch prompts Shiro to let his arm flop down. He peers up at Keith and asks, “Did I?” Shiro doesn’t mean for it to come out as pensive as it does.

 

Keith’s dark eyes look almost black in the poorly lit room. The way the golden light of the bedside lamps falls on his bodyguard-slash-lovers face makes Shiro thinks of Bellini's sculptures. He wonders if there’s a sculptor out there who could capture Keith’s form in marble. But only if they’re as good as Bellini. Only then can Keith’s wonderfully complex and contradicting form be captured.

 

 _Jesus, I’m so tired_ , Shiro thinks, closing his eyes as Keith’s fingers comb his white fringe back. Over and over again, fingertips dragging against Shiro’s scalp until he’s turning into the touch like a greedy cat.

 

“Yeah, you did,” Keith says. The quiet pride in his voice is tempered with sadness. No one knows the effect these events and parties have on Shiro better than Keith.

 

Squirming a few inches up the bed, Shiro swears he can almost hear Angelo sighing and complaining about his lack of respect for his clothes. But he ignores his stylist’s voice as he turns on his side to face his boyfriend, resting his head on Keith’s thigh as he throws an arm around a slim waist. “Feels like it’s getting harder every time.”

 

Keith’s cool fingers curl around the back of his neck and squeeze gently. The touch is filled with understanding and sympathy. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

 

The reminder stirs a complicated mess of emotions inside Shiro - irritation because he knows that, resignation because he has to keep the act up, and the wild foolish thought of _what if I_ did _drop the act and come out as bi?_ After four years of doing one movie after another, following his schedules down to the letter, and meeting every demand made of him, Shiro could surely stop pretending.

 

“You don’t have to keep lying to everyone. Things are different now.”

 

Shiro knows that hopeful statement is rooted in Keith’s faith in his personality and reputation. It’s something that’s always amused Shiro. But in these conversations? It makes Shiro think that Keith’s putting too much faith in a group of entirely too fickle people. That he’s being too optimistic and naive.

 

He wants to remind Keith of the backlash CatNico, Ginny Lawrence, and Chris Ken had gotten after coming out. The difficulty they’d all faced in the months afterwards to find work. Not to mention all the media attention, with complete strangers tearing their lives apart and examining each personal interaction under a microscope. Like the public was somehow privy to their personal lives.

 

Shiro’s not sure if he could handle that level of scrutiny. He’s not sure he’s ready to share that part of himself with the general public. But Shiro is also growing increasingly aware that he can’t keep lying as well. His smile has grown increasingly brittle as more and more people inquire when he and Allura are going to get married, to the point that Jenny has informed him it’s starting to look like he swallowed a lemon. Every time she points this out, he sighs and tells her he’ll work on it.

 

 _Maybe the reason why more people are asking is because of this romance movie_... Shiro’s nose crinkles in distaste, wondering why he’d agreed to take on the lead role. Oh right. Jenny had said he needed to show his ‘softer, vulnerable’ side after doing two darker roles where he’d been an anti-hero figure.

 

It’s been almost a year since Allura approached him, asking him to do her a favor and pretend to be her boyfriend. She’d been one of the first friends he’d made in the industry and Shiro felt indebted to her.

 

“Just until the press gets tired of us,” Allura had said. “I just want to take some heat off me and the rumors that I’ve got a girlfriend.”

 

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Shiro had asked, “You never told me you were seeing someone. What’s her name?”

 

Allura had grinned behind her wine glass, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

 

Unfortunately, the press hasn’t gotten tired. Rather, they’ve grown more voracious than before. They’d lept on the story like a pack of lionesses on a wounded gazelle, selling the story of “good friends turned lovers” so fast it made Shiro’s head spin. Since that first ‘date’ of theirs, the paparazzi has _hounded_ them: tracking them on the smallest of errands, asking all manner of intrusive questions. He finally understands why so many people compare the paparazzi with mosquitoes. And he’d dearly like the buzzing to stop.

 

Allura’s sure to get backlash as well. Not to mention the studio. But both have reassured Shiro that it’s his decision, and if he chooses to come out? They’re behind him every step of the way. And it’s not been just them. His team, his _friends_ , have all stated their complete support for him. They’ll all have his back.

 

He just needs to find the courage to be true to himself publicly instead of privately. But it’s hard when the echoes of several powerful executives and co-workers ring in his ear, casually declaring in interviews and parties that they’d never work with gays.

 

 _If only they knew how many gay people they’ve already worked with_... Shiro thinks sardonically.

 

He sighs, loosens his grip on Keith and forces himself to sit up. He avoids meeting Keith’s gaze and opts instead to strip down. Get out of this monkey suit and into his pj's. The red tie goes first, silk hissing as he pulls on it. Next are the cuff links, which he drops into his blazer breast pocket. The shoes go off next, uncaringly kicked off and pushed to the end of the bed.

 

He’s getting up on his feet, wondering if there’s a spare hanger in the closet, when Keith stands up as well. Shiro’s fingers pause mid-way unbuttoning his shirt as his attention shifts to Keith. He stares at Keith’s fingers, accentuated by his fingerless gloves. Blinks and focuses on the way Keith’s black jacket accentuates his waist.

 

Shiro’s fingers move to touch Keith, stroking up his side in clear, lustful admiration.

 

“Like what you see?” Keith asks in obvious amusement, half-way done with unbuttoning Shiro’s shirt.

 

“Always,” Shiro says with a small but honest smile. “I always like it when you wear a suit.”

 

Keith’s lips quirk up into a half-smile. Silence stretches between them. Shiro thinks about resting his forehead on Keith’s shoulder and watching him work from that perch. He’s ready to follow through when he sees Keith pause, fingers curling into his now opened shirt.

 

“Keith?”

 

The younger man exhales, short and heavy. His right hand shifts, gloved palm pressing against Shiro’s chest before dark blue eyes shift up. Keith’s eyes are soft and apologetic  when he says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be pushing you on this.”

 

Shiro starts shaking his head, pressing his bionic hand on top of Keith’s, “You d-”

 

“No,” Keith cuts him off, gentle and firm. “It’s not fair of me to push you about this. If you don’t want to come out yet then that’s your decision and I’m going to respect it. Support it.”

 

Cool relief spreads over his tense shoulders, helping them relax. Shiro gives into the urge and tips forward, rubs his forehead into Keith’s shoulder and breathes out, “Thank you.” It’s something Keith has told him many times before but Shiro appreciates hearing it again.

 

He feels a dry kiss brush against his ear and smiles. There’s a scratchy, itchy feeling that grows in the back of his throat when Keith murmurs, “I’m here for you no matter what you decide. And it’s not just me. Allura, Pidge, Matt, Hunk, Lance, your parents... We’re all going to stand by you. Come what may.”

 

“Even if I never come out?” Shiro asks quietly.

 

Keith’s palm immediately touches the side of his face, urging him to straighten up. Shiro follows the wordless directions quietly, eyes downcast. Keith doesn’t say anything long enough that curiosity naturally pulls Shiro’s gaze up.

 

There’s nothing but love in Keith’s eyes as he answers, “Even if you never come out.”

 

Shiro grabs Keith in a tight hug immediately, words failing him. If only there were a way for him to take Keith into himself and let him see, feel, experience the breadth and span of emotions he’s feeling. The nebulous emotions are hard to pin down but Shiro knows that at the heart of the fog are love and gratitude as wide, expansive, and deep as the ocean itself.

 

“Thank you,” he breathes out, feeling part of the weight that perpetually rests on his shoulders, fall.

 

Keith’s hands stroke up and down his back, the warm slide of them pushing more tension out of Shiro’s back until he’s leaning heavily against his boyfriend.

 

“Whatever you choose, you won’t have to face things on your own.”

 

It’s the firm resolve in Keith’s words and the strength in his arms which matches the strength of Shiro’s hug, that drains the last dregs of worry out of the actor. And with it, goes the last of his strength as well.

 

Emotionally _and_ physically drained, he sighs, “Sorry but could you help me get into bed? I’m gonna fall asleep on my feet any second now.”

 

Keith works swiftly, as used to stripping Shiro naked as he is himself. His calloused fingertips running over the curve of Shiro’s undershirt as pushes the thin button-down shirt off. Shiro shivers, waiting for the shirt to slither down his arms before curling himself around Keith.

 

He playfully clings tighter when Keith laughs, “Takashi, I can’t get your pants off if I can’t see what I’m doing.”

 

“Liar,” he teases, ignoring the way sleep gently sweeps her gentle hand across his eyelids. “I know you can get me out of my pants without having to look.”

 

Keith grumbles, “Totally different situations,” and starts fumbling around Shiro’s belt. Shiro can’t help but laugh because it’s graceless and clumsy, hilarious as much as it is endearing. He shakes harder, hiccuping in between his chuckles when Keith sighs, “Jesus, you must _really_ be tired if you think _this_ is funny.”

 

“It’d be funny even if I _wasn’t_ tired.”

 

His belt buckle clinks merrily in agreement as it comes undone under Keith’s fingers, “Whatever you say.” Even the sound of the zipper dragging down sounds amusing to Shiro, causing him to keep on grinning as he pulls back, kicking the slacks off.

 

Keith clicks his tongue, swiping the material off the floor. He messily folds it and tosses it on top of the rest of the suit. “Shit,” he curses as soon as he does so. “Angelo said we need to hang the suit, right?”

 

“Mhmm,” Shiro answers, dropping back down onto the bed, now wearing just his undershirt, boxers, and socks. His feet hang off the side, body sunk into the soft sheets. The one perk of his job is staying at nice hotels with great amenities and comfortable beds. Remembering that the hotel has 24/7 room service, his stomach grumbles in delayed protest. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity to eat anything substantial during the party.

 

 _What time is it_ , he wonders wearily as Keith helps him out of his socks. _Too late to eat anything_ . Shiro groans pitifully. He hates his diet _so_ much. Shiro can’t _wait_ for this stupid tour to be over and his three weeks of vacation to start. And then, he has to start training for his new role as... Jeez. What was the character’s name? Jim? James? White collar employee by day, charismatic thrill seeker at night. It’s blockbuster fodder with lots of fan service but Shiro’s looking forward to doing his own car stunts at least. But he’s not looking forward to the diet that's going to come with it.

 

Keith stands and takes a step closer, one leg between Shiro’s knees. His touch is firm but gentle when he takes hold of Shiro’s wrists. “Come on,” Keith urges as he pulls Shiro up. “I gotta get that tank off.”

 

He sits up, swaying slightly before raising his arms up. Shiro feels like a child, what with the way Keith’s taking care of him. But it feels nice to give up control to someone he completely trusts.

 

“Feel up to getting into your jammies, champ?” Keith’s voice comes through the fog slipping into his mind.

 

Shiro inhales. Lets the breath out slowly before tipping forward, arms wrapped around Keith’s arms. “Screw it.” He turns his gaze up, pressing his chin into Keith’s stomach. Pitches his voice low as he asks, “Come to bed?”

 

His eyes droop, falling just short of closing when Keith leans in to kiss his forehead. “Gotta take care of some stuff first. You should rest. You need it more than I do.”

 

 _What kind of stuff_? Shiro thinks of asking but instead of words, a jaw-cracking yawn pulls his lips apart instead. Keith’s quiet chuckles ring in his ears. “Get into bed.”

 

There’s a protest on his lips, that he doesn’t want to go to bed without Keith, but Shiro’s far too tired to put up a fight. So he follows Keith’s hands as they guide him under the thick quilt. Sighs when his head sinks into the pillow.

 

Shiro is certain he has slept for a short period because the next time he opens his eyes, the room is dark and Keith is slipping into bed. His tired eyes lock onto the phone Keith’s got pressed between his cheek and bare shoulder. Keith’s voice is a distant murmur through the sleep haze hanging heavy over him but Shiro catches Jenny’s name being dropped along with his own. It pulls a curious sound out of him, loud enough to have Keith twisting around to glance down at him.

 

A golden halo surrounds Keith’s visage as he peers at Shiro, holding his phone up to his ear with his hand now. With his second hand, he strokes Shiro’s hair while continuing to speak, “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Thanks Jenny.”

 

“Jenny?” Shiro slurs.

 

Keith turns away, placing his phone down on the side table before turning the lamp off with a soft click. His body is familiar and warm against his own as it slides under the sheets. Shiro clings to Keith, pushing his thigh between the other man’s legs with a happy sigh and nuzzle.

 

“It’s nothing,” Keith whispers in the dark, pressing their lips together in a clumsy but sweet kiss. Keith tastes mint-fresh and cool, reminding Shiro that he’s forgotten to brush his teeth. Whatever. He’ll do that after waking up. “Go back to sleep.”

 

\--

 

Shiro wakes up in a better mood, refreshed and more-or-less ready to tackle his itinerary. While Keith angrily taps at his phone to kill the second alarm, Shiro presses a kiss to the other man’s shoulder and slides out of bed.

 

Heading into the bathroom, Shiro goes through his morning routine while trying to remember what he’s got to do today. If memory serves, he’s got a bunch of magazine interviews lined up from nine till lunch, and then a radio interview and then...

 

He squints at his own reflection, pausing mid-way through brushing his teeth wondering, _What am I forgetting... I know I’m forgetting_ something _._

 

He’s staring at his reflection, trying to remember what engagement has slipped his mind when the bathroom door opens. Shiro turns to watch Keith stumble in, smiling as his lover yawns before pressing up against his back. The sleepy nuzzles and kisses Keith lavishes the nape of his neck fill Shiro with warmth.

 

After he’s spit out the foam, Shiro greets, “Hey baby.”

 

“Mm, hey.” Keith’s arms tighten around his waist. “How’d you sleep?”

 

“I think I passed out more than slept,” Shiro jokes, running his toothbrush under the water for a few seconds before tapping the excess water off. After he’s tucked the brush into its cup, Shiro turns with a smile. “What about you? When’d you sleep?”

 

With a heavy groan, Keith presses his forehead against Shiro’s sternum. “I don’t know. An hour after you went to bed. Had to sort some shit out with Jenny.” And just like that, Keith’s mood brightens.

 

He pulls back, sleepy expression turned bright and teasing. Shiro wonders what’s the cause of this sudden shift.

 

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

 

Keith’s hands curl around his waist, sleep warm and rough. Shiro tilts his head in curiosity, gently pressing his palm to Keith’s mouth as he leans in. “Morning breath,” he reminds Keith with the tiniest of smiles before asking, “What kind of surprise?”

 

Pulling Shiro’s hand down, Keith moves around his boyfriend’s larger frame to grab his own toothbrush. “A good one.”

 

“Come on,” Shiro wheedles. He turns, presses up against Keith’s back, and playfully rocks him from side-to-side while watching Keith’s reflection try not to smile at his antics. “Tell me. Please?”

 

“I guess I _should_ tell you before you get dressed.” Keith’s smile is magnetic when directed his way. Shiro’s breath catches in his throat and wonders how anyone can see Keith smile and not think him anything but lovely. “I talked to Jenny last night and convinced her to clear your schedule till day after tomorrow.”

 

Blinking in shock, Shiro asks, “You what? _How_?”

 

As Keith squeezes some toothpaste onto the bristles, he explains, “I reminded her you haven’t had a break since we started this tour three weeks ago. And I told her you needed a day to unwind and relax. She agreed pretty easily.” Keith makes a face at him in the mirror. “Kinda makes me think she was expecting my call actually.”

 

 _Oh_ . The memory of Keith talking on the phone the last before springs to mind. _I didn't dream that part up last night. He really was talking to her on the phone_.

 

“But that’s not all.”

 

With a small shake of his head, Shiro asks, “There’s more?”

 

Keith sticks his toothbrush into his mouth and starts brushing, mumbling, “Mmhmm. Ya better get dressed. Got a long day ahead of us. Wear something comfortable.”

 

“Am I gonna need a disguise?”

 

“Yeah. A face mask and a hat.”

 

\--

 

Keith’s surprise, as it turns out, is a beauty of a hoverbike and a trip heading out of town with no destination in mind. It’s reckless, exciting, and thrilling. Shiro can’t remember the last time he tried anything that fell under any of those three categories. His life has been neatly scheduled and planned for the last two years now.

 

But this. This is an _adventure_.

 

And Shiro is more than happy to accept the helmet Keith holds out and climb onto the hoverbike, eager in a way he hasn’t been in _ages_. Keith laughs at his enthusiasm, making sure he’s got his helmet on before following Shiro up on the bike.

 

“Hold on,” is all the warning Shiro gets before Keith’s turning the bike on and they’re zipping away. Down traffic-ridden streets and busy highways until they’re on a stretch of road that goes straight into the horizon. Civilization eventually gives way to a wide and expansive desert. The sky, clear blue and cloudless, is the only thing that remains the same no matter how far they ride.

 

It’s amazing how, despite the fact that the sun is beating down on them and he’s wearing his best leather jacket, Shiro doesn’t feel overheated. In fact, he feels a little chilly thanks to the wind whipping around them. He uses it as an excuse to shift forward and cling harder to Keith.

 

 _Freedom_ , Shiro thinks as he tips his head back and spreads his arms to embrace the wind, crotch snug against Keith’s ass, _feels better than the best champagne in the world_. He laughs, feeling as unfettered as the eagle flying overhead.

 

Shiro realizes after a while that there’s a comm link between the helmets, activated by pressing a button on the left side of his helmet. Keith stops tapping the spot over his left ear and takes hold of the controls again, revving the engines as he asks, “You feel like stopping yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Shiro answers, unwilling to forgo the feeling of almost flying for even a second. Damn the fact that he’s probably going to be walking bow-legged by the end. It’ll be worth it.

 

Keith nods and kicks the bike up a gear. The sun ambles across the sky, tugging a few thin strands of pale clouds across its body before moving past them. A single truck zips past them, headed in the opposite direction. Shiro barely catches sight of the colorful motif painted on the side of the truck but he _thinks_ it involved a pair of gladiators fighting each other.

 

The longer they ride, the more towns they drive through. As the distance between each township grows, the size of each community shrinks. Well after the sun has past its zenith, Shiro points out they stop somewhere for lunch. The breakfast he’d hurriedly consumed in the hotel has long been digested. And he’d scarfed his food down to boot, eager to learn Keith’s surprise rather than enjoy his toast and eggs.

 

They stop in a town that Keith jokingly describes as “Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA” as Shiro puts his disguise on. Shiro however, is keenly reminded of a movie he’s seen as a teenager. He just hopes there are no demons living in this town or that no wraiths will rise out of the golden sands surrounding them. Sharing his concerns with Keith has his boyfriend laughing all the way into the diner.

 

“It’s not funny!” Shiro insists to his snickering boyfriend, who is poorly hiding his amusement behind the diner menu. “That movie freaked me out growing up.”

 

Stretching his legs out underneath the table, Keith teases, “Relax. I’ll defend you from any freaky ringwraiths that’ll come out from the ground. That’s part of the job description.”

 

He could correct Keith that they weren’t _ringwraiths_ , he’s not scared of those guys from the Lord of the Rings, but that way lies more teasing on his expense. So Shiro turns the subject instead. He stretches out his own legs, capturing Keith’s calves between his boots with a tiny grin. “Gonna be the Kevin Costner to my Whitney Houston?”

 

“Minus the whole stalker situation,” Keith grins up at him before diving back into the menu. “I’m gonna get the combo #3 with extra fries. What about you?”

 

Shiro glances over his own laminated menu, frowning when he sees nothing but deep fried options. _Burgers, pizzas, and milkshakes, oh my_. Shiro thinks wryly as he re-reads the menu in the hopes that he’s missed the Salad section. But nope. It doesn’t magically appear in front of his eyes.

 

A finger taps against the back of the menu. Shiro looks up and catches Keith’s expectant gaze. Sighs deeply, “I don’t know. It’s all greasy, deep-fried stuff.”

 

“And you’re on a two day holiday. Splurge.”

 

That’s true. Shiro’s mood lifts at the reminder and makes him go through the menu with renewed enthusiasm. His stomach twists with hunger, a bit of drool gathering under his tongue as he imagines how good a cheeseburger will taste. How wonderful the fries will be, hot and perfectly salted. How the rich deliciousness of the chocolate milkshake will be intensified by the deep chill.

 

In the end, Shiro orders a cheeseburger with an extra patty, extra cheese, fries, and a milkshake. And he _relishes_ every. single. _bite_ . Shiro groans at the rich flavor and succulent meat, ignoring the pained look Keith shoots his way. He’s aware of how he sounds but _God_ . It’s been so _long_ since he’s had a decent burger.

 

Shiro feels like his head is floating an inch above his neck after he’s done eating. He smiles pleasantly behind his mask on the way out, pressing against Keith’s side as they pass through the diner’s double doors together. Keith’s arm slips around his waist immediately and Shiro is more than happy to curl his own arm around Keith’s shoulders.

 

“Feel like taking a walk to burn your food baby off?” Keith asks.

 

Shiro nods, enjoying the way the dust kicks up under his boots with every step. He’s not sure if anyone would agree with him on this but there’s a romantic feel to this. Walking down the single double road of a town smaller than most studio’s he’s worked in. He falls in loves with the way Keith presses back against him, matching him step for easy step. Hides his smile in Keith’s helmet hair when he notices the curious looks of the few townsfolk following them.

 

“We’re being watched.”

 

Keith glances at the old lady watching them through a store window, an amused snort tipping out when his attention immediately makes her start rearranging the display. “Don’t worry about it. They’re just curious about us out of towners.”

 

That said, he pulls Shiro’s hand down to stop him from touching his snapback. Shiro makes a face but obediently tucks his hand away into a pocket, “You sure it’s not because they’ve recognized me.”

 

“There’s three ways to recognize you. Your hair, your scar, your hand. All three are hidden. So, I doubt it.”

 

They walk up and down the road at a lazy pace, happy in their little bubble. The light exercise helps stave off the sleepy feeling that had threatened to overtake his senses after their meal. But the urge to sleep returns soon after they’re back on the road. At one point, Shiro presses his head against Keith’s back and dozes off for a short interval.

 

When he wakes up, the sun has dipped a little more towards the horizon and Keith is pulling up in front of a pump. Shiro stretches in his seat, fighting down a yawn as Keith hops off the bike. “I’ll go pay at the counter. You want anything?”

 

Shiro shakes his head tiredly, clambering off the bike as well. He accepts the helmet Keith holds out and places it on top of the empty seat. Takes off his own helmet and plants it next to its twin, slipping his cap back on. Once Keith has entered the tiny shop, Shiro pulls his phone out. He’s pleasantly surprised to realize he’s got full reception here.

 

 _Ain’t technology wonderful_ , a voice in his head drawls as he pulls up the few messages waiting for him. There’s a handful of spam advertisements that Shiro deletes without bothering to read. That leaves him with 4 messages.

 

The first and oldest message is a reminder from Hunk that he needs to send his RSVP to Hunk and Shay’s wedding. The second and third messages are from Jenny, first telling him to have a good time on his two days off and to call her if there’s an emergency. The last message, is from Allura.

 

Shiro pulls that up with a small frown, feeling a twinge of guilt as he realizes that by suddenly bailing on her, she’s probably doing all the interviews on her own. He doesn’t expect the message to have censure, and it doesn’t. But he still feels guilty.

 

He reads her simple message of “ _Heard you weren’t feeling well. Everything okay_?” and wonders how to reply back.

 

Unable to figure out how to squeeze all his work weariness into a message, Shiro winds up calling his friend. The ring tone drones on and on until it shifts to voicemail. If he’s honest, Shiro’s a little grateful she couldn’t pick up the call. It calms his racing heart down.

 

“Hey, it’s me.” Shiro straightens up as he looks up at the shop, waiting for Keith. “Just saw your message. Wanted to call and tell you I’m okay. Well. Not okay but not sick. I just needed to take a break from all the crazy. You know how it is. So Keith’s dragged me out on the road for a psuedo-road-trip thing but we’ll be back in town the day after.”

 

Tipping his head back, Shiro eyes the three birds flying overhead and wonders if they’re eagles or vultures. They’re too far to tell. He exhales, wondering how long they’ve got until the sunsets.  “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to drop all this on you but I really needed the break. I needed it but I didn’t know it. Or I didn’t think to ask of it. I dunno.”

 

A door creaks close, bringing Shiro’s gaze down to Earth. He sees Keith pulling his gloves back on, bright-yellow fuel card held between his lips. Shiro finds himself straightening up, a smile coming to his lips of its own accord. A regular occurrence when it comes to Keith. “If you ever need a sudden break or want a two-day holiday to spend with your girlfriend, just tell me. I’ll cover for you. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Keith’s flipping the card through his nimble fingers as he stops in front of Shiro. “Who was that?” he asks curiously.

 

“Just calling Allura. Told her what we’re up to,” Shiro slips his phone back into his jacket. “Got the card filled up?”

 

“Yep. I’m glad I listened to Jenny and stopped at the ATM to grab some cash before we left town.” Keith moves towards the pump he’s parked the bike in front of. “This guy said they’re the only pump around that’s got the fuel card.”

 

Planting both hands back on the bike seats, Shiro leans back and asks, “Seriously? I thought that was mandatory these days.”

 

Keith shrugs, pushing the card into its slot and waiting for the touch screen to come to life. “Me too. But the next pump that has this system is three hours away.”

 

“Shit,” Shiro sums up with a raised eyebrow and a surprised down twist to his lips. “Good thing we stopped here then.”

 

Humming in agreement, Keith waits for the machine to chime its readiness before pulling the nozzle out of its sheath. He unscrews the gap on the side of the bike before sticking the nozzle in. The tylium flows from the machine into the bike as soon as Keith presses the trigger.

 

Keith sticks his free hand into his jeans pocket, shifts his weight back on his left foot and turns to Shiro. Smiles and asks, “How you doing?”

 

Smiling back, Shiro answers, “Good. Better than I’ve felt in weeks. Happy.”

 

“Good,” Keith echoes with a nod, a pleased air about him. If he wasn’t so comfortable as he is, Shiro could move to hug his boyfriend. But as it is, he’s content to lean back on the bike and soak up the warm rays of sun falling on them.

 

Eyes drifting up to the sky, Shiro eyes the setting sun and asks, “Where are we gonna stop for the night? It should be night soon enough.”

 

Keith twists to check the display, voice distant, “Where ever you want.”

 

Blinking at his boyfriend, Shiro asks, “You didn’t book a room at some place?”

 

“That’d spoil the adventure, wouldn’t it?” Keith laughs, shooting Shiro a grin. “So whenever you want, _wherever_ you want. We’ll stop there.”

 

\--

 

An hour after the sun has set, with the stars twinkling overhead, Shiro presses closer to Keith’s warm body before tapping the side of his helmet.

 

There’s a soft beep before Keith’s voice comes in through the embedded speakers, “Yeah?”

 

“Let’s stop at the next town.”

 

The bike engine hums between his thighs, the vibrations intensifying as Keith pushes the bike into the next gear. Shiro tips his head back, staring up at the vast night sky. It’s an endless sea of deep blue with twice as many diamonds twinkling down at him. Wonder, awe, and unease fill him the longer he stares at the stars, feeling so insignificant but overwhelmed by the majesty of what he’s seeing.

 

He honestly can’t recall the last time he’d seen so many stars in the sky. It’s more than breathtaking. “Oh,” Shiro breathes out in surprise when he sees a streak of white racing through the sky.

 

“What is it?” he hears Keith ask.

 

Shiro presses his chest against Keith’s back, raising his arm up almost straight overhead. It feels like if he closes his fingers he could almost catch one of the streaks and burn his hand. “Shooting stars.”

 

After slowing the bike down, Keith raises his head and follows Shiro’s finger. His quiet “wow” is filled with childlike wonder and delight. “That’s beautiful.”

 

“Mmhmm,” Shiro answers, tightening his arms around Keith’s chest. Keith takes one hand off the handlebars and drops it on top of Shiro’s arm. His slender fingers squeeze Shiro’s forearm tightly, reassuring and comforting in equal parts.

 

Tenderness overflows from the touch, pulling Shiro’s head down to rest against Keith’s shoulder. Keith’s hand stays on his own. Through his visor, Shiro can see nothing but an expanse of the desert sand and the twinkling stars. Despite the cold wind they’re cutting through and the fact they’ve been riding for hours, Shiro feels warm and comfortable. So much so, he finds himself closing his eyes.

 

\--

 

As the bike slows down, Shiro sleepily raises his head. They’re entering a small town, larger than the one they’d stopped in for lunch but not by much. Shiro notes the store selling leather crafts and cowboy boots, the diner showing off its homemade apple pies, and other quaint desert americana aesthetics. It looks like a charming enough town.

 

He wishes he could say the same for the motel they pull up in front of though. From all accounts it looks just like the seedy motels in any other city, right down to the cheesy name and neon lights. The only difference is that this motel is a lot dustier.

 

Once he’s shot a quick update to Jenny, complete with a picture of the motel, Shiro tucks his phone back into his pocket. Perched atop the bike, fingers tapping an offbeat rhythm on the helmet next to his hip, he waits for Keith to come out of the office. Hopefully they’ll have a room they can share.

 

He perks up as Keith walks out of the office, twirling a keycard between his fingers. “Got it?”

 

“A double bed for the happy couple on their honeymoon,” Keith grins, holding the card out for Shiro to take.

 

With a laugh, Shiro nods towards the inn sign stating “Honeymoon Inn” and asks, “Got your inspiration from that?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith makes a face as he guides the bike in front of their room. The number 7 gleams onyx black on the white door. “She was a talker. Asked what I was doing out here in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know what to say so I told her we were doing a trip across California for our honeymoon. She thought it was romantic and cute so...” The man pulls a small sheath of coupons out of his jacket and waves them at Shiro.

 

Laughing, Shiro takes the coupons and flips through them. “Ten percent off on ice cream from Billy’s Ice Cream Stand. _Fourty_ percent off on the cheeseburger deal at Amanda’s Eats. Nice, that settles where we’re having dinner and dessert.”

 

Keith laughs as well, pulling the bike into the spot before their room before offering his hand to Shiro. Accepting the chivalrous gesture, Shiro drops to his feet next to his boyfriend. Relishing the fact that they’re out in the middle of nowhere and no one cares who they are, Shiro tips forward to press their lips together in a lingering kiss.

 

Falling a step back with a soft noise of surprise, Keith’s hands come around his back before he kisses back. Shiro feels Keith smile into the kiss and finds his own lips turning up too. It makes kissing impossible but Shiro can’t help it.

 

Giddiness makes his mind spin as Keith’s hands slip lower to squeeze his ass, causing chuckles to come tumbling out his lips. “Keith! We’re still outside.”

 

“We’re newlyweds,” Keith reminds him with a laugh of his own, moving them back towards their room. “We should act like it.”

 

A fire bursts to life in the pit of his stomach, inflamed by the way Keith licks his way into Shiro’s mouth. His hands grab at Keith, desperate to close the distance between them. He’s pleased when Keith’s back hits the door, allowing him to push his thigh between Keith’s and rock into him.

 

“Fuck,” Keith curses breathlessly, fumbling with the keycard. “Babe, let me... Let me get the door.”

 

Keith turns around in his arms, hurriedly jamming the card into the lock-slot and twisting the door handle as soon as it beeps green. Shiro meanwhile turns his attention to Keith’s neck and sucks a sizeable hickey into the pale skin there, all the while grinding his growing hardness against the sweet curve of Keith’s ass.

 

The door’s impatient rattling echoes his own feelings. He lets out a relieved groan when it _finally_ opens and Keith’s eager hands yank him in. The door rattles once more as Keith shoves him back against the door, causing the lock to click into place with a sharp beep.

 

Keith’s hands shove his snapback off, moving onto his jacket and shirt next. His breathless, “Come here already,” pushes Shiro to action. He’s not aware of whose hands strip who down but they’re naked and grinding together within minutes. Shiro exhales shakily, bionic hand sliding down Keith’s back to squeeze his ass rhythmically. The other man’s dick slides against the groove of his hip, leaving slick trails behind that drive him mad.

 

They stay together like that, grinding against each other before getting a hand between their bodies to touch each other. Shiro hisses through his teeth at the first touch, feeling like they're having sex for the first time again. Keith's gloved hand is warm and smooth against his dick, a perfect snug fit. Keit himself bites the meat of Shiro's shoulder and ruts harder into Shiro's hand.

 

Neither of them last long, fragile threads of their release connecting them the same way their kisses and touches keep them together. But the first release is only the start. A prelude to the main act.

 

“Bed,” Shiro bites out, using both hands to heft Keith up against him.

 

Keith moves immediately, instinctively, hopping up and wrapping his legs around Shiro’s waist without breaking the kiss they’re wrapped up in. His weight is familiar and welcome in his arms. Comforting even given how long it’s been since they’ve had time, opportunity, _and_ the desire to indulge themselves in a slow fuck.

 

Shiro crosses the room swiftly and drops Keith down on the bed, crawling on top of him immediately. He feels aflame with desire, his hunger growing with every kiss and touch Keith presses into Shiro’s skin. They’ve got a whole night ahead of them and Shiro intends to make the most of it.

 

His hands move restlessly, sweeping up Keith’s thighs to hold them in place around his waist. Down his chest, admiring his muscles and the leanness of his waist. Around Keith’s cock, grinning at the hiss his touch pulls from Keith. Shiro presses a sharp nips to his lover’s jawline, whispering, “That’s it.”

 

The more encouragement he whispers, the more Keith bucks his hips up into Shiro’s hand, increasing wetness gathering at the tip. Keith’s arms tighten around him, fingernails raking down his back until they cup his ass. The touch lingers, fingertips moving between his cheeks to touch his hole.

 

Which is when the same thought runs through their mind at the same time, causing them both to groan.

 

“You didn’t...”

 

“I didn’t think we’d need it.”

 

“Fuck,” Shiro drops his head down on Keith’s sternum making a face. “That was stupid.”

 

“Tell me about it. We _always_ need lube. I should have grabbed a bottle when we stopped to fuel up.”

 

The memory of pulling Keith into a coat room during an earlier tour comes to mind, causing Shiro to snort in agreement. With their track record, one of them _should_ have grabbed some lube before leaving. But no matter. They can indulge in something else in the meanwhile. Later, they can stop by the 24/7 shop Shiro had seen on the way to this motel. It’s sure to have _at least_ some KY jelly.

 

Shiro captures Keith’s lip between his teeth and suckles on it quickly. Lets it go with a soft pop before asking, “We could 69 it?”

 

“Fuck _yes,_ ” Keith hisses, hands already pushing Shiro to his side while he moves.

 

They move into place hurriedly but clumsily, mouths moving to take each other in. Shiro closes his eyes, wanting to lose himself in Keith’s touch, scent, _taste_. His dick throbs against Keith’s tongue, hips gently rocking into the wet heat. Shiro moans around the member in his own mouth, drool gathering under his tongue at the familiar taste of Keith on his tongue.

 

Choking on Keith’s taste and scent somehow adds to his pleasure. Shiro wildly thinks he’d be happy to go like this. With his nose buried in Keith’s pubic hair, his tongue tracing the veins up to slit that’s gently dripping with pre-come. Ah. But not before he makes Keith come. _Then_ , it would be okay to die with Keith’s taste on his tongue.

 

With that thought in mind, Shiro pushes in closer. Sucks harder and bobs his head faster because he _needs_. Needs to feel Keith’s thighs trembling around his ears, needs to taste his release, needs to hear his name turning into a moan on Keith’s tongue.

 

Keith comes first, thrusting all the way into Shiro’s mouth as he comes. With his lips pressed against the crown of Shiro’s dick, his moan washes over the flushed, _aching_ flesh and Shiro can’t take it. His hips twitch, rubbing his dick against Keith’s mouth until he finds it being directed by a trembling hand back into the heat.

 

It’s the hot tongue lapping kittenishly at the tip of his cock that turns out to be Shiro’s undoing. He comes burying his groan against the base of Keith’s dick, gasping and panting and shuddering. Shiro’s content to stay there until he unhappily realizes that this isn’t the most comfortable position to rest in.

 

With a groan, they both readjust. _I could sleep for days,_ he stifles a yawn as the warm afterglow seeps into his bones. Keith’s chest presses against his own torso, their breathing mismatched for a few intakes before they move as one. Shiro smiles, arms wrapping around Keith. _We match each other in every way_.

 

“Jesus, I’m so tired,” Keith confesses in a whisper. “How is that even possible?”

 

Grunting in agreement is all he can do. Who knew driving out into nowhere all day can sap up all your energy by the end. Or maybe it’s the combination of the drive and the orgasm. The end result is the same, Shiro feels a great weariness start to overtake him, making him press his mouth to Keith’s forehead and exhale softly.

 

As Keith yawns, Shiro finds himself yawning as well. He mumbles, “Driving is tiring.”

 

“You didn’t even drive.”

 

Keith’s sleepy reply turns into another yawn on the last word before he shuffles closer, lips smushed against Shiro’s chest. It takes all he has to quirk his lips in the smallest indication of his amusement. With his eyes closed, Shiro listens to the deep breath Keith takes in and thinks, _Just twenty minutes. Then I’ll get up and we’ll go get something to eat_.

 

\--

 

Shiro wakes up with Keith’s nose pressed against his shoulder blade, a lazy arm thrown over his hips. He can feel each exhale against his skin, soft and warm. Blinking slowly, Shiro stares at the muted pink-purple glow seeping through the thin curtains and wonders, _what time is it_?

 

Habit has his eyes moving to the nightstand but there’s nothing there beside a fat lamp with a crooked shade on its head.

 

 _Where’s my phone_?

 

He pushes himself up on an elbow, sleep heavy eyes squinting in the dark room as he tries to jog his memory. It takes him half a minute before remembering his phone had been tucked away in his jeans, and his jeans are...

 

Shiro lets out an annoyed exhale through his nose when he sees the dark puddles near the doorway. There’s no way he’s getting out of Keith’s arms and walking across the room just to grab his pants. Screw that. He’s more interested in staying put. There’s _nothing_ that could convince him to move out of bed.

 

Which is when Keith rolls over, slack fingers dragging across Shiro’s stomach. His fingernails scrape over the dried remains of their joined pleasure, catching an itch to spread over Shiro’s skin. With a whispered curse, Shiro rubs his palm against his stomach but it doesn’t help. Rather, the itchy feeling only grows.

 

 _So much for_ that _resolution_ , he thinks wryly to himself.

 

As he carefully slides out of bed, Shiro wonders how he slept through Keith getting them under the blue quilt. Should he be concerned that his usual pattern of light sleep has turned into extremely deep sleep? It’s something he’ll ask Jenny to look into. Keith remains curled on his side, one hand tucked against his chest while the other palm is curled softly on top of his pillow. He’s the picture of contentment and peaceful sleep.

 

Walking over to the other side of the bed, Shiro tenderly pushes a few strands of hair off Keith’s face and behind his ear. Presses a kiss to the revealed skin before moving towards the bathroom, fingernails scratching away at his belly.

 

 _Fuck. This is annoying_. Shiro grumbles to himself, making sure to close the door before turning the lights on. His eyes glance past his own reflection, taking in his messy hair and the hickies dotting his chest, before taking in the rest of the small room. It’s cramped, with cream colored tiles covering the walls. The sink, toilet, and bathtub line up on his left, all pristine white.

 

Shiro steps towards the bathtub, turning the shower on and waiting for the water to turn hot before stepping under the water. A pleased sigh falls out his lips when the water hits his chest, perfectly hot and relaxing his sore muscles. He turns his face up, exhaling as the hot water washes him clean.

 

He’s lazily scrubbing his stomach clean when the door creaks open. Swiping his hand over his face, Shiro leans out of the water spray to see Keith walking in, fingers rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“Hey,” Shiro greets, making room for Keith under the shower. “How’d you sleep?”

 

“Like a baby.” Keith stands facing him, back to the shower head. He slides his arms around Shiro, forehead pressed against Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro wraps his arms around Keith and holds him close. “You?”

 

“Same.”

 

He’s not sure how long they stand there, clinging to each other, but it’s long enough for Shiro to feel sleep call to him again. He has to shake the veil away, saying, “Let me clean you up.”

 

Keith groans, making a face down at himself. “I hate it when I don’t clean up after having sex. I _hate_ how crusty and itchy come gets once it’s dry.”

 

With a snort of agreement, Shiro grabs the soap and lathers his hands up. While he cleans Keith up, Keith returns the favor. They wash each other in silence, exchanging small smiles whenever their hands bump into each other. Shiro exhales a laugh when Keith’s hand wraps around his half-hard length and starts to stroke, and returns the touch.

 

In between soft kisses that taste clean and sweet, Shiro walks Keith back against the wall. Smiles when he feels Keith shiver against his front. He whispers an apology that Keith steals off his tongue with a quick swipe, his free hand clutching at Shiro’s bicep. Shiro presses closer, hand moving at a lazy pace that mirrors the way their lips meet over and over again.

 

His lips feel pleasantly swollen and body warm from the inside out. Shiro’s convinced part of the steam filling the room has formed from the water evaporating between the wet slide of their naked bodies. Keith gasps his name, the soft warning almost lost under the rush of water. His fingers slacken around Shiro as he comes, hips jerking and twitching.

 

Shiro watches the gentle orgasm roll through Keith, sighing happily when pruny fingers touch his lips. He bites the slim fingers gently, suckling on them as Keith’s grip on him tightens. Shiro closes his eyes and lets Keith pull him over the edge as well.

 

When they’re done, and their thighs have stopped trembling, Keith presses one last kiss on Shiro’s cheek and tells him, “We should get out. The water’s starting to get cold.”

 

Keith turns the shower off while Shiro grabs two towels. They dry each other off, stealing short, sweet kisses in between firm swipes of thin terrycloth over damp skin. Shiro laughs when Keith’s hands take their time drying his ass. “Come on. You can grope my ass later. I want to grab something to eat. I’m starved.”

 

“Same,” Keith scrubs the towel over Shiro’s hair before tossing the wet terry cloth over on the counter. “What do you feel like eating?”

 

Swiping the towel one last time over Keith’s torso to catch a few errant water droplets, Shiro tosses it over on top of its twin on the counter with a shrug. “Dunno. We could check those coupons? I think there was one for some kind of family restaurant.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

\--

 

Adjusting the red handbasket in his grip, Shiro mutters, “What kind of a town has restaurants that closes the kitchen at 7? That’s just _weird_.”

 

“When in Rome,” Keith offers as rebuttal, tugging Shiro down the first aisle. “Plus it’s a small town. I’m surprised they _have_ a family restaurant in the first place. What do you want to eat?”

 

Shiro eyes the shelves stacked with cleaning products before answering in a total deadpan, “Not bleach.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Keith drags Shiro deeper into the shop, “You’re so cranky when you’re hungry. Come on. What do you want? You feel up to making some sandwiches? We could grab some bread, cheese, ham slices, mayo. Or oh!” Keith grabs a jar of peanut butter off a shelf and holds it up. “PB&J?”

 

“PB&J is fine,” Shiro holds the basket out for Keith to drop the red-capped jar in. It’s after the bottle is in when he peeks in and asks, “Wait, is that crunchy or smooth?”

 

“Crunchy.”

 

With a nod, Shiro holds his free arm out towards Keith. “We should get a ton of snacks.”

 

Leather jacket squeaking, Keith links their arms together and leans into him with a grin. “What about your diet?”

 

“On vacation.”

 

“That’s the spirit.” Keith laughs, dropping a bottle of jam into the basket as well before guiding him towards the snacks aisle. On the way, Shiro’s phone chimes in notification of a new email.

 

He doesn’t think and pulls the device out to check. The disapproving eyebrow raise Keith gives him makes Shiro grin sheepishly, “Sorry. Habit.”

 

While Keith mutters under his breath about his bad habits, Shiro opens his email. There’s some newsletters Shiro mentally marks for future reading, along with some official responses. Instead, he opens the mail Lance as sent, titled “URGENT!!!!!!.”

 

The male model’s message was sent two hours ago, asking Shiro for his advice on what he should wear to make the best impression possible on Ansa, the dark-skinned Indian beauty he has a couples shoot with tomorrow. Shiro raises an eye at the pictures Lance has attached, each outfit more extravagant than the next.

 

As Keith picks out plastic cutlery, Shiro tucks the basket into his elbow and advises Lance to take it easy and just be himself. “Go easy on the accessories. Be casual. Wear something like the stuff you wear when we meet up for lunch at _Freddy’s_. Don’t try too hard to make a good impression. And DON’T flirt with as soon as you meet her! DON’T do that!”

 

He contemplates bolding the don’t’s and maybe repeating the sentiment one more time. Decides, yeah. Both are good ideas. To top the message off, he adds in a final reminder not to flirt with Ansa during the shoot either and sends the email off.

 

Next, Shiro opens up the email from Matt. It’s some talk about the project his company, _Holt Post Productions_ , is currently working on and the program Pidge is a part of that’s going to revolutionize the industry. At the end is a gentle reminder “you **have** to swing by the house when you’re in Washington or else you’re gonna make my mom cry. And you’re gonna piss me and Pidge off and we’re gonna refuse to work on your next film :) Who’s gonna airbrush your abs then?”

 

Shiro snorts, replying back that there’s no way he’s going to miss dinner at the Holt’s house when he’s in town. Surreality swirls through him. It seems like just a few _months_ ago he’d stumbled onto Matt’s flyer on his dorm’s news board asking for people interested in joining the Film Club’s annual project.

 

It was a whim, joining the project up as an actor. A way to blow off some steam. But that little passion project had wound up becoming his and Matt’s big break into Hollywood after some producer had stumbled onto the 20 minute film on YouTube a few months later.

 

Shiro had been struggling, unable to find a job when the same producer had approached him with a lucrative offer Shiro would have been a fool to turn down. And it’s been like being stuck in a whirlwind ever since the day he signed on for his first movie (an indie sci-fi action story that wound up gaining attention at Sundance, leading to more movies and acclaim for Shiro).

 

A part of him wishes he _had_ turned the man down. It would have meant avoiding a good deal of anxiety and headache. _I would have missed out on meeting a lot of amazing people though. Keith included_. Shiro’s lips go up in an unwilling smile as he swipes his thumb across the screen, pulling the next unread mail up.

 

“Oh,” Shiro smiles as he opens the next email. Keith grunts questioningly. “Got a mail from Hunk.”

 

His smile softening when he reads his friend’s message.

 

 _“Hope you’re doing okay. Jenny said you weren’t feeling too hot. Drink lots of orange juice and ginger tea if you can get it! The pics from the GQ photoshoot I did last month finally came in. I attached the ones they’re going to go with. Tell me what you think! But no rush :)_ ”

 

“What’s he say?” Keith asks, body a line of heat against his arm as he leans in to peek at Shiro’s phone screen. “Oh! The GQ shoot finally came in?”

 

Tapping the attachments to begin their download, Shiro nods, “Yeah. He said it was a really good shoot. More sexy than he’s used too but good.”

 

He brings up the picture that’s finished downloading. Keith whistles, low and admiring at the half-body shot of Hunk showing off his back muscles. “That’s hot.”

 

Shiro nods in agreement, feeling a prickle of attraction as he slides through the other pictures. Hunk pulling a cufflink off, shirt half unbuttoned. Hunk laughingly tugging on his wet t-shirt clinging perfectly to his body. Hunk dressed to the nines and looking like he just finished signing a seven figure deal and is about to jet-off to lock in another contract.

 

They’re all fantastic shots and he says so in his reply. Keith tells him to add in an invitation to join them in bed if he’s ever interested before crouching down to check the selection of chips flavors. Shiro laughs and tells him Hunk is too into Shay to take them up but adds the offer in the reply anyways. As Keith holds up two bags for him to put into the basket, Hunk’s reply comes in.

 

It’s a flustered keysmash that makes Shiro grin and hold the phone out for Keith to see. Laughing, Keith says, “He’s cute when he gets all shy.”

 

With a pout, Shiro waits for his boyfriend to straighten up before pulling his body against him. “I can be cute too.”

 

Keith’s laugh brightens up the snacks aisle for a moment. “You’re a little shit, _that’s_ what you are.”

 

“That’s really rude.”

 

“But true,” Keith cup his cheek with one hand while the other tugs down the facemask Shiro’s wearing. Using the touch to hold him steady, Keith pushes himself up to press a firm kiss to Shiro’s pout.

 

Pulling away, Keith’s face is soft with fondness as he tugs the mask up to cover Shiro’s scar before reaching up to fix the snapback Shiro’s wearing. “Lucky for you, I like little shits built like brick houses.”

 

“Lucky me.”

 

He doesn’t mean for his voice to come out so fond and reverent but it does. The mood and Keith’s smile shifts, from teasing to warm. His fingertips are warm and gentle as they drag down the line of Shiro’s jaw.

 

Helplessly in love, Shiro ducks his head and clears his throat, asking, “What else do you want to get? We can’t just eat this. We need more candy.”

 

Shiro turns, causing his boots to squeak against the floor, turning towards the shelf upon where he saw a selection of gummy candies. As he crouches down in front of them, checking the labels out, Keith comes up to his side. He hesitates while Shiro debates between rainbow and green apple sour stripes. It’s a pause long enough to make him glance up at Keith as well.

 

Worry flickers across Keith’s eyes before it’s replaced with soft love. He crouches down next to Shiro smoothly, hands resting on Shiro’s forearms. His grip is hard. Grounding. Shiro is arrested by the touch, language forgotten thanks to the way Keith’s gaze softens the longer their gaze holds.

 

“I love you.”

 

Keith tends to say those three words like they’re the most obvious fact in the world. Water is wet, grass is green, and he loves Shiro. When they’re having sex, Keith chokes on those same three words. They’re said with desperation, a sobbed plea. A notion so grand and encompassing it’s beyond words and can only be expressed with guttural noises rising from his chest.

 

But sometimes, like right now, Keith will say those three words like they’re the most fragile, beautiful, and precious words he knows. Shiro wishes there was some way to give physical, _tangible_ form to Keith’s love confession. Because if he could? Shiro’s certain it would be a budding rose. Soft, shy, and lovely.

 

The warmth that blossoms in his chest feels like a multitude of flowers unfurling their petals as one. He smiles and answers, “I love you too.” Then tilts his head with the tiniest head shake to wordlessly ask what brought this on.

 

With a shrug, one of Keith’s hands slide down to link their fingers together. Shiro will never stop marvelling at how _well_ their hands fit together. It makes him think silly thoughts like they were made for each other and how nice Keith’s hand would look with a ring on it.

 

Shiro clears his throat to shove _that_ thought to the back of his mind, “Green apple or rainbow?” Keith snorts and gestures between them with his free hand, which makes Shiro laugh, “Right. Rainbow, _of course_.”

 

They load the basket up with all the snacks they can, letting their empty stomachs get the better of them. They pick up chips, candy, soda, pretzels, Oreos, Animal Crackers, whatever looks good. It’s only when Shiro’s placing the basket in front of the cashier that he realizes how much they’ve picked up.

 

“We may have gone overboard here,” he points out, critically eying the pile of snacks. Logic is telling him they’ll be unable to eat all of this. But his stomach and competitive streak are willing and ready to prove the notion wrong.

 

But Keith’s attention is elsewhere. He’s staring at the rack placed in front of the cashier, at the tabloid declaring they’ve got undisputable proof that Shirogane Takashi and Allura of the House of Alfor have gotten secretly married. Keith plucks the magazine out, shooting Shiro an amused look before pulling it open.

 

The cashier looks over at Keith, mid-way through swiping the box of Animal Crackers, and snorts. The couple looks over at the girl immediately, who nods at the paper in Keith’s hands. “Sorry. I just think that’s garbage.”

 

“Tabloids in general or...?”

 

At Keith’s question, the girl, Jane her name tag reads, swipes the box across the reader before moving onto the next item, the gummy worms. “The main story, that Shirogane and Allura got married. Their “proof” if you even want to call it that, are some pap photos speculating about some holiday they took together with some friends. It’s bullshit. Those two aren’t ever getting married.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Jane moves through their stack of snacks with practiced ease and speed. Her answer is immediate as well. “They’ve been together for how long now? Almost a year? If they were going to get married they would have already. Or at least have gotten engaged or talked about having a future together. But they never do. Besides, they don’t really seem like a couple to me. No romantic chemistry. It’s more like they’re really good friends. I wouldn’t bet on them ever getting married. Hell, if they don’t break up in the next year, I’ll eat a hat.”

 

Shiro blinks in surprise, a little worried there’s been some leak in their team if his and Allura’s plans to quietly break up have already been leaked somewhere. But that’s been something he asked offhand. It couldn’t be that someone leaked that inquiry as fact?

 

He even shoots Keith an alarmed look, but Keith’s grinning at Jane, who nods at the tabloid and asks, “Are you gonna buy that?”

 

Sliding the paper back into its place, Keith answers, “Na. Not a fan of garbage journalism.”

 

Jane shrugs, “Suit yourself.” Her pale blue eyes return to Shiro. The look of bland disinterest sharpens, causing nervous sweat to break out across his back. He squirms, thinking, _I’ve been found out_.

 

“Has anyone ever told you you look just like Shirogane? Like, you’re a little short and not as buff but...”

 

He’s glad he’s got the mask on because it hides the way his mouth falls open. Keith snickers and pats Shiro’s back, “A lot of people tell him that. Oh! Shit, hang on. I forgot something.”

 

Glancing at Keith’s back, Shiro finds himself standing alone at the counter with Jane, who is eyeing their purchases with a critical eye. He half expects her to make a comment about how unhealthy it’ll be to eat all this but she just says, “A lot of sour stuff in here. You need more sugar.”

 

“What do you recommend?”

 

“Nothing better than chocolate.” Jane gestures at the display set up at the counter, “Can’t go wrong with a couple of bars of Hershey’s, some Reese’s, and a big bag of M&M’s.”

 

He plucks two of each, dropping them on this side of the barcode reader just as Keith comes skidding back. His boyfriend crashes into his back with a laugh. “Can’t believe I forgot the most important thing.”

 

“More important than food?” Shiro asks, question ending right as Keith drops a small box of condoms and two bottles of lube onto the belt. His eyebrows shoot up immediately, voice mildly alarmed as he asks, “ _Two_?”

 

Keith remains pressed against his side, a grin on his face. “I like a challenge.”

 

“I’m scared to ask what you’ve got planned,” Shiro mumbles, feeling a flush of embarrassment when he realizes Jane’s eavesdropping and is blushing bright red. She doesn’t meet their eyes as she mumbles the total to them.

 

Shiro reaches for his wallet but Keith’s a step ahead of him, pulling out several bills out from his pocket before sliding them forward. Jane accepts the money, slipping it into the till before pulling the change out. She meekly slips the money into Keith’s hand with a quiet thanks.

 

“I’ll bag these up for you.”  She stuffs their purchases into three paper bags, blush spreading when she tucks the condom and lube away. She refuses to meet their eyes as she hands the bags over, mumbling, “Have a good night. _Shit_. I meant. I uh.. Umm.”

 

With a weak grin, Shiro says, “It’s okay. Good night.” Keith’s too busy holding his snickering back to do anything more than wave a distracted hand at the girl facepalming at her post. He manages to keep his laughter in until they’re outside the store.

 

As soon as the doors close behind them, Keith bursts into laughter, burying the noise in Shiro’s shoulder. “Have a good night. A little short and not as muscled,” Keith repeats with a cackle. “Told you you’ve lost some muscle mass.”

 

“I haven’t lost _that_ much...” Shiro glances down at himself, self consciously patting his torso with his free hand before asking, “Have I?”

 

Tucking both bags into one arm, Keith pulls Shiro towards their parked bike. “You’re back to your usual size, don’t worry about it. Remember, you had to put on _extra_ muscle for your last role.”

 

“And I never want to do that _ever_ again.”

 

“Whatever you want babe. Here,” Keith gestures at Shiro to hand his bag over before nodding at the bike. “You get on first. You can hold the food.”

 

\--

 

Without waiting for Keith to turn the engine off, Shiro’s sliding off the machine, the thrum of the hoverbike reverberating through his body. He grins up at Keith, holding both arms out to help his boyfriend down as he turns the machine off. Instead of accepting Shiro’s offer, Keith laughs and hands the brown paper bags over before dropping to his feet with a grin.

 

Pouting, Shiro ducks his head and asks, “At least help me take this mask off.”

 

In answer, Keith snaps the mask against Shiro’s nose playfully before moving his hands up. His fingers sweep over the curve of Shiro’s red-tipped ears before pulling the elastic down, taking the mask off. Keith tucks it away in his jacket before pulling the snapback off as well. That he tucks into his back pocket before sliding off the bike. And holds his arm out, gesturing at Shiro’s load.

 

Shiro happily hands one of the bags over, waits for Keith to tuck it into the corner of his elbow before grabbing Keith’s hand. Grinning, relishing the surprised yelp Keith lets out as Shiro tugs him back to their room, racing past the few other parked vehicles.

 

“What’s the rush?” He hears Keith ask and Shiro can only laugh, no explanation for his eagerness or the happiness bubbling up in him. His boot catches on a rock, stumbling forward with a laugh as Keith laughingly warns him to be more careful.

 

Turning around mid-way, hands still connected, Shiro grins, “Let’s eat outside.”

 

Keith glances around at the empty parking lot before gesturing towards the garden table and chairs tucked away next to the gray ice machine. “Grab those. Let’s put them in front of our room.”

 

They race towards the chairs, hands swinging between them, exchanging a look when they realize they’re going to need both their hands to move the plastic furniture. Shiro holds his bag up, silently asking where to put them down. Keith does a quick turn, checking their surroundings, before jumping towards the gray box. He plonks his bag on top of the large box before gesturing at Shiro to hand his bags over as well.

 

Relinquishing them, Shiro watching Keith out of the corner of his eye while he checks the plastic table out. They look sturdy enough, unbroken. Really grimy though. Shiro swipes a finger down the surface and frowns deeply at the collected dust.

 

“We’re gonna hafta clean this before we use it.”

 

“Use one of the towels from the room,” Keith offers in return, picking two chairs out of the stacked set. “Better clean the chairs too.”

 

As Keith totters away, Shiro eyes the table, wondering how to pick it up while minimizing the dirt transfer. In the end, he waits for Keith to walk back before they carry it in front of their room, right under the window and the fluorescent light burning overhead. While he adjusts the furniture to his liking, Keith ducks into the room to grab the towels.

 

“Here,” Keith says as he steps back out, tossing a damp towel at him. “I’ll do the table, you do the chairs.”

 

Nodding, he gets to work. Shiro’s bent over wiping the second chair down when he sees Keith’s boots moving away into the room before walking back out. Shiro glances up, an eyebrow quirked up in question.

 

“I’ll get the food. You need any help?”

 

“I’ve got this,” Shiro nods over at the ice box. “Go.”

 

He listens to the sound of Keith’s boots dragging against the dry ground, probably kicking up a small sand storm along the way. Shiro smiles, hurriedly finishing his task so that they can eat. When he’s done, he chucks his dirtied towel into the room, on top of the coffee table placed under the window.

 

As he steps out of the room, Shiro starts to ask, “Babe?” because it shouldn’t be taking this long to grab the food and come back. The sound of a plastic bag being torn open crosses the space between them. Shiro laughs at the sight of Keith perched on top of the large metal box, tearing a gummy worm in half with his teeth.

 

“Couldn’t wait?”

 

“I’m _starving_ ,” Keith groans, gesturing at Shiro to come over. Shiro happily follows the crooked finger guiding him forward. Crossing the distance with wide steps, Shiro moves until he’s stand between Keith’s parted legs, which immediately squeeze his shoulders. The machine comes up to Shiro’s chest, putting Keith at a high perch above him.

 

Shiro smiles as he slides his hands up Keith’s thighs, fingertips pressing into his sides when he asks, “Feed me?”

 

“Sure,” Keith laughs, holding a red and yellow gummy candy up for Shiro to bite into. He bares his teeth but takes the whole candy into his mouth, kissing Keith’s fingertips before chewing. Keith grins, the back of his fingers stroking Shiro’s cheek before offering him another candy.

 

Chewing on the candy, Shiro pulls one of the grocery bag closer. Digs through them for the red solo cups and the soda. Shiro hands the latter over to Keith, the sight of which makes Keith sigh, “Why didn’t we get beer again?”

 

“Because we wanted to be completely sober for our night of debauchery,” Shiro answers, grinning as he moves to scoop some ice into the two glasses. The cubes clack softly against the plastic as he returns to his place between Keith’s parted thighs.

 

Keith’s arms strain against his jacket as he twists the cap off the bottle. The soda bottle cracks open with a sharp hiss. Keith takes one of the cups, filling it up with the soda before handing it back to Shiro. Who immediately brings it up to his lips, enjoying the bubbly feeling that tickles his nose as he takes a sip. It tastes sharp and sweet, a perfect complement to the tart candy.

 

He’s taking another gummy worm out of Keith’s fingers when he’s asked, “How you feeling?”

 

Pressing his shoulder against Keith’s knee, Shiro answers, “Good.” Smiles up at his lover before looking down into his cup. He swirls the ice cubes around before continuing, “Thinking about what that girl said. About me and Allura.”

 

“She’s got a good eye. I almost jumped out of my skin when she said that thing about you and her breaking up.”

 

Shiro snorts in agreement, “Yeah. Made me think someone’d leaked that.” He peeks up at Keith, giddy mood fading away into something more sombre. The ice melts slowly inside his cup, knocking against the plastic walls.  “Is it that obvious? That I’m not in love with her?”

 

A gloved palm cups his cheek. “To me? Yeah. But to the world... Not really. If it was obvious then there’d be more open speculation. Not rumors about you two getting married soon.”

 

Keith’s fingertips drag against his skin as he takes his hand back. Tucks the gummy worms away before picking out a chocolate bar out of the bags. He cracks the bar in multiple pieces before peeling the paper and silver foil away. “I wouldn’t worry about it. There’s bound to be _some_ people who think you and Allura aren’t a couple. You can’t ever convince 100 percent of your audience. Don’t stress about it.”

 

Bitterness swells up in him, anger-red and despair-black pressing against the back of his tongue. “I just... I _hate_ this.” Shiro struggles not to crumple the flimsy half-filled cup in his bionic hand. It feels stupid to complain about a situation of his own making but he can’t hold his regret in any longer. “I know this is what I wanted but I also...”

 

“Hey, hey,” Keith pulls him in, body curling around Shiro’s head and shoulders in a tight hug. “It’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself.”

 

Shiro shakes his head against Keith’s chest, gently pushing him back, “I _need_ too. It’s getting to be too much. Putting up this act that I’m straight when I’m not. I feel like a sell out.”

 

“It’s not selling out when you’re doing it to avoid being the center of the wrong attention,” Keith firmly tells him, fingers firm on Shiro’s chin as he forces the other man to meet his gaze. “And it’s _definitely_ not selling out if you’re doing something to keep your own piece of mind. For your own health.”

 

Shiro waits for more, sensing that Keith isn’t done. But nothing else follows. So he tilts his head a little and slowly says, “I’m sensing a _but_ at the end of that.”

 

After a moment of clear hesitation, Keith begins again. Slower this time, expression pained. “But it’s not worth it if it’s hurting you more than helping you.”

 

He sucks in a sharp, cold breath, eyes darting away. Shiro doesn’t have any defense for that. He stares at a crease in Keith’s shirt, anxiety clawing his insides until they’re torn to shreds. Shiro wishes he knew what to do.

 

That’s a lie.

 

He knows what’s the best course of action.

 

Shiro just needs to find the courage to go through with it.

 

“I’m such a fucking coward,” Shiro exhales.

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

Shiro shakes his head softly, hiding his guilty expression into Keith’s palm as he answers, “It’s true. I _am_ a coward. It’s my own mess and I can stop it whenever I want too but I’m just too scared to do that.”

 

“There’s no shame in that.”

 

“No, the shame is that I’m killing myself hiding the truth,” Shiro mutters, looking down at his cup. God he wishes they’d gotten beer instead of soda. This isn’t a conversation he’s comfortable having sober.

 

Keith’s fingers move up, sweeping his fringe back over his forehead. “Yeah,” he agrees in the softest voice, “you are.”

 

His lips twitch, a weak smile trying and failing to be born. “No arguing on that, huh?” Keith doesn’t answer him. Instead, he presses a kiss to Shiro’s hair and hugs him best as he can. It fights off most of Shiro’s morose mood, replacing it with a weariness that’s been plaguing him for what feels like forever. “I’m so tired.”

 

Keith’s arms tighten around him, “I told you. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

 

“I know.”

 

It’s a surprise that Keith pulls back to kiss his forehead and say, “Help me down. Let’s get some food in you. That’ll help you feel better.”

 

Relieved that they’re leaving the conversation behind, Shiro puts his cup down next to Keith’s before opening his arms. Keith slides off his perch and smoothly into his boyfriend's arms, who smiles as he accepts Keith’s weight. The feeling of Keith’s knees digging quickly into his ribs before relaxing on the way down, relaxes Shiro.

 

With his hands on Keith’s shoulders, Shiro feels pure gratitude flood him. The sentiment overflows from the smile he directs at Keith. “How’d I get so lucky?” Shiro muses, mostly to himself.

 

Keith’s answering smile is filled with tender regard, his voice gentle as he whispers, “I ask myself the same thing about you.” The kiss that follows feels like absolution, like a pardon long coming. And it washes away the blue mood that’s swept over him.

 

When they pull apart, Shiro rubs their noses together and offers Keith the sweetest smile he can muster. Steals one more kiss before moving around Keith to grab their bags. Shiro’s taken one bag into hand when Keith presses up against his side and steals the other two out from under his nose.

 

He gives his boyfriend a surprised look and finds his red cup being held under his nose. “Come on. Food now, more talk later.”

 

Shiro smiles wryly as he accepts his cup, “More? That wasn’t enough?”

 

“Nope. I think we’re avoided having a proper talk for long enough.” Keith takes his own half-empty cup and begins to walk towards their table. His every step is confident and sure. Shiro can’t help but envy Keith’s bold certainty that colors his every action a vibrant gold.

 

He also can’t help but feel that he’s being left behind in more ways than one due to his own hesitation.

 

When Keith pauses halfway across the yard and shoots him a questioning look, head tilted in a silent, “Aren’t you coming?”, Shiro finds himself moving. It’s like a tug in his belly. A gentle hand taking hold of his hand and pulling him forward.  

 

 _Maybe_ ... Shiro thinks to himself as he settles his bag and cup down on the plastic table, peeking up at Keith who is busily pulling the bread, jam, and peanut butter out of the bags, mumbling-asking about the knives. _Maybe what I need is some kind of catalyst. A stimulus that’ll make me break out of this state_.

 

He tucks that thought away for future reflection, focusing instead on helping Keith. Using plastic knives, they cobble together a small stack of pb&j sandwiches cut into rectangles with the crust on. Along with it, they pull out more candy and chips which they pile into more paper plates. Seeing all the food spread before him, Shiro feels hunger biting at his insides, its teeth sharper than needles.

 

He’s ready to sit down and dig in when Keith shoves him towards their room, “Better wash our hands first. You go first. I’ll be right behind you.”

 

Shiro groans with his stomach, hurrying to the bathroom. He tugs his gloves off along the way, tossing them onto the table along the way. Shiro’s washing the dirty suds off when Keith bumps up next to him, gloveless as well. They grin at each other’s reflections, checking each other with their hips before walking back out, clean hands linked together.

 

As they sit down, Keith eyes the table and laughs. He fills his glass up before pouring more bubbling soda into Shiro’s glass.  “I think we got too much food.”

 

Shiro grins, “Maybe but I’m up for the challenge.”

 

Keith gestures for him to pass his cup. As the soda rises up to the rim, Shiro feels some of the fizz falling against his fingers. The ticklish feeling makes him smile, which turns into a grin when he holds his glass up for Keith in a silent toast. Keith grins back, tapping their glasses together.

 

Shiro takes a small sip, sucking in a half-melted cube of ice before putting his glass down. The sharp cold feels good against his tongue and cheek. Cleanses his palette before he picks up half a sandwich and bites into it.

 

When Shiro thinks of ‘peaceful’, he would have never imagined this scenario to fit the bill. But it does. The table laden down with junk food. The plastic chair that he’s worried will give out if he doesn’t keep his weight evenly distributed on all four legs. The neon pink lights fading into the darkness as the town slowly falls asleep.

 

The motel parking lot becomes chillier as the night deepens. Keith stretches his legs out in front of him, heels of his boots scraping against the ground. He’s smiling placidly, picking another sandwich out of the pile before settling back into his chair.

 

They choose not to talk, focusing instead on getting some food into their belly. The only sound between them is the sharp sound of the chips being bitten into. Shiro sifts through the chips on the plate, searching for the biggest one. Once found, he holds it out to Keith with a smile.

 

Keith accepts it with a grin. “Don’t think this is going to stop us from talking about what you need to do.”

 

“I’d never think of bribing you with chips,” Shiro turns his nose up with a sniff. “I’d bribe you with something better.”

 

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

 

Grabbing a few M&M’s, Shiro tosses one into his mouth. Chews on it before answering, “Those gross kale chips you like from the fancy bakery near our New York apartment. Or the German chocolate cake from _Brianna’s_ _Bakery_.”

 

“You think food’s the only thing you can bribe me with? Gimme some of those too,” Keith pushes his chair so that he’s facing Shiro, gesturing for him to toss the M&M’s into his mouth.

 

The first one goes pinging off Keith’s cheek, making them both laugh. The second falls on Keith’s tongue, cracking in two underneath the man’s teeth while Shiro cheers for the shot. Popping another two chocolate candies into his own mouth, Shiro answers, “Well, it’s the top two things on the list. There’s a lot more.”

 

“There’s a list? I guess that’s good to know. Here, take the last one.” Keith pushes the last sandwich forward before picking the plate of gummy sharks. Tears the head off one as Shiro takes a large bite. “So. About your whole situation.”

 

And just like that, the rich taste of peanut butter and strawberry jam turns chalky in Shiro’s mouth. His throat closes up, eyes dropping down on his plate and the crumbs on it. There’s a smear of peanut butter on the edge of the plate that Shiro thumbs as Keith asks, “You said... it’s killing you to keep the truth in.”

 

Shiro exhales but the heavy feeling in his chest remains unmoved. It only grows with every passing second he continues to avoid Keith’s gaze. He’s rubbed the peanut butter off the plate by the time Keith murmurs, “Shiro... Come on. You can’t keep avoiding this.”

 

“Why not?” Shiro asks the bit of sandwich he’s holding between his fingers. “Why can’t things stay the way they are.”

 

Keith’s exhale is quiet and heavy. The plastic chair drags against the concrete as Keith pushes himself up to his feet. Shiro can hear his heartbeat pounding away in his ear, muffling the few steps Keith takes towards him. His fingers feel numb as Keith takes the sandwich and plate away, putting them back on the table before sitting down in Shiro’s lap.

 

Relief warms him when Keith’s hands guide his head down on his shoulder, fingers stroking his buzzcut. Shiro closes his eyes, wanting to go back to five minutes ago when he felt happy and carefree instead of bone weary. He wraps his arms around Keith’s body, pulling him closer with a tired, “Tell me what to do.”

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

“I want to stop feeling so...” Shiro shakes his head, unable to find the words for the tired despair that’s been dogging him for months now. “I want to stop faking I’m happy. I want to stop hiding the truth. I want to stop feeling so scared of doing the right thing.”

 

Keith’s fingers move up to stroke his hair, nails scratching against Shiro’s scalp. “What’re you so scared of?”

 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. That’s a question he’s asked himself many times and Shiro hasn’t been able to arrive at any answer. “It’s just... Whenever I think about doing it, I feel... stuck. Paralyzed. Like, I imagine myself telling an interviewer that I’m bi and...”

 

He burrows his face against Keith’s neck, feeling sick to his stomach imagining the scenario. Shiro doesn’t know how to explain that coming out feels like standing on a precipice. And at the same time, there’s a cutting wind pressing against his back, threatening to push him over the edge.

 

“Here’s how I see it,” Keith says, voice a steadying force. “You’ve got two options. You can either keep your act up, either with Allura or someone else. Or you can face the music. Both options suck _but_. With the second option, at least you’ll be happy.”

 

“Happy?” Shiro’s laugh rings hollow. “Being held to the media’s perception of how I should act as a queer guy? Constantly being asked if being bi is a phase? Going online and hearing fans say they’re disappointed in me?”

A knuckle digs into the side of his head, making him yelp at the sudden pain. Hand flying up to grab Keith’s wrist, he finds a heavy scowl being directed at him, “You won’t be _lying_ anymore! Fuck how people expect you act because that’s bullshit! If you believe you’re bi then you’re bi. You don’t need any more validation than that, least all from a bunch of people who’re more preoccupied with making a quick buck from their story than caring about you.”

 

Keith’s hand curls around the nape of his neck, squeezing firmly. Shiro feels more grounded than he has in weeks. “There’s _always_ going to be people disappointed in you, no matter _what_ you do. You can’t please _everyone_ . That’s just not possible! That’s just a fact of life. And if you come out? Sure there’s going to be people who’re not going to like it. But you know what? There’s going to be at least twice as many people who _will_ like it.”

 

Everything Keith says is sensible. Rational. It all rings of truth. Comforted, Shiro burrows closer to Keith until he’s curled into him. “What about my career?”

 

“It’ll probably take a hit, sure. You might not get approached by as many big shots for blockbusters but... You’ll be able to pick and choose from better projects. And you could always stop being an actor. Try something else. It’s not like you need to make more money, right? So you could just try something. The point is, it won’t be the end of the world. It’ll just be the start of a new chapter of your life. A _happier_ chapter.”

 

Keith’s words are like the first rays of sunshine peeking over the horizon, pushing the dark cloak of night back. They ease his heavy heart, allowing him to turn his hopeful gaze up towards Keith.

 

“There comes a time when you _need_ to think about what’s best for you,” Keith’s fingers slide up into his hair, tugging on the short strands gently, “And honestly? You crossed that point ages ago.”

 

Shame creeps up the back of his neck, under Keith’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

 

Keith exhales, fingers tightening momentarily before a firm kiss brushes against his cool forehead. “Don’t be. I get why you did what you did. But you gotta admit, it hasn’t been the best decision you’ve made.”

 

With a weary laugh, Shiro rubs his cheek into Keith’s shoulder before turning his mouth up against the other man’s jaw. “Yeah. It hasn’t been. I don’t know what to do to get out of it now. Feels like I’m tangled up in knots that keep tightening.”

 

“I guess step one would be to make Jane’s prophecy come true and break up with Allura.” An unwilling laugh breaks free from Shiro’s chest. Keith’s hand slides down around his shoulders. “Step two... I guess you could sit down with Jenny and talk about your options. She’s got to have a couple of plans up her sleeve. I think the real next step is making the commitment.”

 

He looks up at that, puzzled. “Commitment?”

 

Keith’s eyes have an odd purple tint thanks to the neon lights burning above them. The color and the steadiness of his gaze are magnetizing, making Shiro’s breath catch in his throat. “To go through with it. Coming out. Make up your mind that you’re going to do it at some point within... I don’t know. The next 6 months or something. Set a deadline and hold yourself accountable to it.”

 

That sounds like a good idea. Shiro nods slowly before asking, “I guess I should think about how I’ll do it too, right?”

 

“Yep. You could do an interview or just announce it on your social media. Whatever you feel more comfortable with. Might be better to drop a tweet and turn your internet off for a week afterwards.”

 

Shiro laughs, “That’d be nice. Just drop a bombshell and then hide in a cave for a week till all the fuss dies down.”

 

“Right? You could tweet about it, turn your phone off, hop on a plane for Bali or some place, and spend the next five days chilling on a beach instead of worrying in your apartment.”

 

With an amused grin, Shiro asks, “How do you know I won’t just spend those five days worrying on the beach, hmm?”

 

Keith grins at him, a touch of wickedness lurking behind the look. “Because I’ll be there distracting you.”

 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that. Distracting me how?”

 

The wickedness is clear to see now, shining in Keith’s dark eyes as he blinks languidly at Shiro. Smile full of promise as he answers, “You know how.”

 

“No,” Shiro’s voice deepens, lowers as he presses their noses together. Brings his left hand up to trace the shape of Keith’s growing smile. “Tell me.”

 

Pressing their foreheads together, Keith laughs, “You know _exactly_ how, you perv.” He turns his face to kiss Shiro’s ring finger.

 

Shiro feels soft and moldable as wet clay when Keith blinks up at him, a private smile on his face. His heart aches, with love and a touch of guilt. He feels painfully unworthy of Keith and all the compromises he’s made for Shiro’s sake.

 

“What about you?” Keith’s blinks in confusion as Shiro asks, “How are you holding up? I don’t ask you that enough.”

 

With a surprised little shake of the head, Keith answers, “All right, I guess.”

 

“You guess?” Shiro’s expression is wry, hand dropping to wrap around Keith’s waist. He links his fingers on Keith’s hip, notes the surprise that flashes through his boyfriend’s eyes before trying again, voice softer. “Come on. Talk to me.”

 

He’s not sure what does it but Keith’s mask cracks. Shiro catches the tail end of a stricken look flash in dark blue eyes before they’re lowering. As he hides his eyes, Keith’s shoulders slump. He twists his fingers in his lap, murmuring, “It’s... been hard. Real hard. But whenever I see how much lying all the time is gets to you, I want to be strong. For your sake.”

 

“Baby...”

 

Shiro’s heart squeezes painfully at the sound of Keith’s low voice. There’s rare moments where Keith sounds so vulnerable and young. Shiro tends to forget that Keith’s four years younger, only 25.

 

“It’s been _so_ hard. Not just keeping up a brave face but seeing how it’s affecting you every day. It hurts.”

 

Keith bites his lips, hesitating to ask the next question. Shiro lowers his eyes as well. Swipes his tongue across his dry lips before asking, voice a bare octave higher than a whisper. “Do the wedding rumors bother you a lot?”

 

Keith tries to disguise the defensive flinch that pulls his shoulders up to his ears but fails. Shiro exhales, feeling guilty beyond words. Because if there’s anyone he ought be marrying by this point? It’s Keith.

 

Heart aching, Shiro brings a hand up to cup Keith’s cheek. He feels wetness against his fingers. Shiro feels as though his heart has been pierced by a shard of glass. Keith keeps his head bowed as Shiro chokes on his apology, “I’m _so_ sorry.”

 

Keith shakes his head, hand pressing against Shiro’s to keep his palm in place. “Don’t be. It just... It _sucks_.” The last two words are venomous and all they do is increase the hurt Shiro’s feeling. He stares at Keith’s clenched fist and white knuckles. The back of Shiro’s hand feels cold as Keith’s fingers drag away, both hands covering his face as he tries to rein in his anger .

 

“You know you don’t always have to act li-”

 

“I know,” Keith sharply interrupts before continuing, voice softer, “I know. But what else do you want me to do? Just sit there and, and...let you be miserable? Be miserable with you? I can’t do that, Shiro.”

 

Shiro drops his hand on the outside of Keith’s muscled thigh, squeezes. “That doesn’t mean you have to push yourself this hard either.”

 

It’s _that_ statement which finally has Keith looking up, a dirty, unamused look in his eyes. “But _you_ can?”

 

Abashed, it’s Shiro’s turn to look down with a mumbled, “Touche.”

 

Keith sighs, annoyed and tired. Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro sees him rub the back of his thumb against his forehead. “Shiro. _Takashi_. You can’t ask me to not worry about you, okay? That’s stupid.”

 

“I get it.”

 

“Do you?”

 

Nodding, Shiro looks up and meets Keith’s piercing gaze. “Yeah. I do. I’m sorry.”

 

That finally gets him a quicksilver smile. Keith presses his shoulder into Shiro’s body with a quiet, “So long as you get it, ‘s fine.”

 

He nods. Brings his hand down on top of Keith’s and gives it a firm squeeze. “You need to understand something too. You can’t keep putting on this strong face for me _every_ day. I’m no expert but that’s probably not good for you. I love you. And I _love_ that you want to look out for me and be strong for me. But...this is killing you as much as it’s killing me.”

 

Keith blinks in quick succession. There’s a tiny crease between his brows that deepens before smoothing out, an expression of clear surprise on his face.

 

“I never thought about it like that.”

 

“Really? Never?”

 

Shaking his head, Keith answers, “No. I didn’t.”

 

Laughing softly, Shiro leans forward, nose pressing into Keith’s cheek. “You and your tunnel vision.”

 

“Shut up. I’ve gotten better about that.” Keith retaliates with a smile. The mood softens with Keith’s smile, a small, wry little thing. “I’ve been overdoing it too, huh?”

 

Shiro’s expression is twice as wry when he nods, “As bad as I have. _At least._ ”

 

“That’s saying something.” Keith shakes his head, combing his hair with his fingers. “So... what do we do?”

 

“Try harder. Be better. I dunno. I’ll get back to you on that.” Shiro punctuates his promise with a small kiss, stealing the last bit of sugar left behind on Keith’s thin lips.

 

Despite the chilly night air, they sit in a warm bubble, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Keith eventually twists his waist, piling several kinds of candy and a big handful of chips into a new plate before relaxing in Shiro’s lap.

 

As they go back to eating, Shiro asks, “Do you ever think about what would happen if I came out?”

 

Keith nods., “Plenty of times.”

 

“How do you think it’d go?”

 

“Goes differently every time I imagine it. It’s always good though.”

 

Picking up the chocolate, Shiro cracks it into a bite-sized piece and offers it up to Keith. “Tell me.”

 

Keith’s lips are dry and soft as they kiss his fingertips while accepting the chocolate. Replies while chewing, “How I imagine it’d be if you came out? Okay, uuh. I guess. I always imagine that you’re the one to do it. It’s not something that’s found out by some nosey reporter. You make that choice and people... people go nuts about it. In a good way.”

 

He quietly explains a few of his favorite scenarios, voice pitched low. It causes Shiro’s heart to beat humming-bird fast. Wings brushing against his ribs as it excitedly flits from one corner to another. And Shiro thinks, smiling, _I can almost believe that’s how it’ll go_.

 

“What about you? What’ll you do in this future?” Shiro asks, pressing a Reese’s cup against Keith’s lip, like the kiss he wants to lay there.

 

Keith takes a bite out of the peanut-butter-chocolate candy. The dry brush of Keith’s lips against his fingertips sends a line of heat running up his arm and down his spine. It’s fanned by the answering heat in Keith’s eyes when Shiro pushes the remaining candy into his own mouth. He lets the rich flavor melt into his tongue as Keith hums contemplatively.

 

Keith’s fingers dance across the back of his neck, rubbing a sweat drop into Shiro’s skin. “I thought about going back to college. Getting a degree in something.”

 

He offers Keith another piece of candy, asking, “In what?”

 

“Business management probably.”

 

The rapid answer brings a single thought forward to the tip of his tongue. “You’ve thought about this before.”

 

Keith’s shrug is thoughtless and careless. “Can’t stay your bodyguard forever.” But the grin that follows reflects something deeper. The hours Keith has spent thinking about his future. _Their_ future.

 

“What’ve you got planned?”

 

And now Keith’s grin turns slightly bashful. His lashes hide the hopeful happiness in his downturned eyes. “I was thinking I could open my own security firm.”

 

Shiro grins, touching Keith’s waist. “Yeah? What kind of security firm? Offering bodyguard services and stuff?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith nods, running a self-conscious hand through his long hair. “I know it sounds dumb but this is all I know. And I’m good at it. I thought, might as well make a career out of it.”

 

He uses a single finger to lift Keith’s gaze, curls the digit around the other man’s chin. “That’s not dumb. That’s _smart_.”

 

The smile he kisses tastes chocolate-sweet. Shiro sighs happily when sharp teeth nip at his lips, cool fingers reel him in for a deeper kiss. They kiss until the sweet chocolate taste fades and their hands move boldly over each others’ bodies. The hiss of Keith’s jacket zipper opening sounds electric in the quiet night. Keith’s hands are two steps ahead, having already opened Shiro’s jacket and sliding up his ribs, pushing his shirt out of the way.

 

 _Bed_ , is the singular thought that takes over his mind. He forgets about the food and how some of it falls to the ground when he hurriedly rises to his feet, arms filled with Keith. Shiro’s pretty sure he steps on some of the candy as he carries Keith to their room, uncaring about anything except stripping naked and getting in Keith.

 

Keith hands push the door shut before Shiro can kick it shut. Once they’re behind closed doors, their hands move in a flurry. It’s like a repeat of when they arrived, only this time they’ve got lube.

 

Shiro blinks at the two bottles and box of condoms sitting on the bedside table and asks, “When-”

 

“When you were washing up. Here,” Keith gets up on his knees, squeezing Shiro’s hips as he hurriedly grabs the nearest bottle. While he’s getting it open, Shiro admiringly runs his hands up the lean lines of Keith’s body, the sides, front, back. All this time together and he still finds his breath catching at how handsome his boyfriend is.

 

He pouts when Keith takes his hand away, “Hey. I was busy.”

 

“Doing what?” Keith asks with a laugh, dribbling some of the slick onto Shiro’s fingers.

 

Shiro starts saying he was this close to groping Keith’s ass when Keith guides his hand between them. He presses biting kiss to Keith’s collarbone as he rubs the tip of his finger against Keith’s entrance in a way that makes Keith writhe and whisper, “Come on. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

 

 _Can’t have that, now can we?_ Shiro grins, pressing one last kiss to Keith’s skin before rolling them over. Uses his thighs to spread Keith’s legs open until there’s no more room to give. He drops his gaze down, smiles admiringly at the flushed dick curving to the left before dragging his gaze down further.

 

A low hiss slips through Keith’s clenched teeth when Shiro sinks the first digit in, his own stomach clenching thanks to how tight Keith feels around him. He leans in, pressing lazy, open mouthed kisses on Keith’s unmarked skin. “How long’s it been?”

 

“Since we had sex like this?” Keith pants, hands grabbing at Shiro’s back. “A couple of weeks. Before the tour started.”

 

Shiro sucks a sharp red mark at the base of Keith’s sternum, moving up to capture an earlobe between his teeth as he pushes the second finger in. Keith’s exhaled curse brushes past Shiro’s ear. The drag of Keith’s nails against his skin feel like brand marks. Shiro arches into the pain, groaning when he feels the squeeze around his fingers.

 

“Too long,” he mumbles senselessly, keenly aware of how hard he is. Shiro’s eager to get things moving but he needs to make sure Keith is properly prepped first. And for that, he needs more lube. While he’s grabbing the bottle, his fingers knock the condoms off the table.

 

Shiro glance is fleeting but it’s enough to process the sight of them on the floor. “Is that why you got the condoms?”

 

His answer is a hard roll of the eyes, “ _No_. I thought it’d be easier to clean up.”

 

He pours the lube over his fingers, scissoring them gently to get the slick in between the digits and into Keith. “Smart.”

 

“Can you just-” Keith shakes his head, voice turning into a pleading whine as he bucks his hips down on Shiro’s fingers. “I need you in me.”

 

“You’re not ready yet.”

 

Another whine, lower and longer. The look Keith levels him with is half angry and half pleading. “Then _get on with it_.”

 

It’s an order if Shiro’s ever heard one. He stretches Keith open as fast as he dares, hoping that using more lube than usual will make up for his haste. As he snatches the box of condoms off the floor and rips it open, uncaring of finesse, Shiro notes Keith pushing three fingers into himself.

 

Adrenaline and lube-wet fingers make it almost impossible for him to open a packet of foil but between them, they manage to rip it open. Shiro pushes the rubber down on himself, moaning as he strokes the lube on before moving back into place, Keith’s hand guiding him in.

 

Shiro’s mind reels, spinning with delirious pleasure as he pushes past the first ring of muscle. His eyes stay locked on Keith’s face, blinking rapidly when a drop of sweat catches the corner of his eye. Shiro lets out an expletive, hating that he’s missing even a second of seeing Keith’s expression melting into pleasure.

 

Time moves haltingly, jerking Shiro from one moment to the next. He’s kissing Keith’s slack mouth, breathing in Keith’s shocked gasp as Shiro sinks all the way in. Shiro’s breath hitches when Keith squeezes around him, holding him in place. A blink and Shiro’s got his hands under Keith’s knees, pushing him further up the bed before thrusting in hard enough to make the headboard bang into the wall. He gasps and Keith’s holding onto a pillow, bracing himself as he works his hips in counter-rhythm to Shiro.

 

Keith frees one hand and wraps it tight around the nape of Shiro’s neck, brings him in until their foreheads are pressed together. Each gasp that falls out of Keith’s lips washes over Shiro’s mouth, adding to the fire that’s consuming him. His hands slip thanks to the sweat gathering on their skin, making him readjust his grip on Keith’s thighs.

 

“I’m so close,” Keith moans, back arching. Shiro’s eyes drop on the line of hickies darkening on the other man’s collarbone. “Takashi... Taka-”

 

The hitch in Keith’s voice splits his name in two. His muscles clamp down around Shiro’s cock, encouraging him to follow in Keith’s path. Nails scratch against his skin, hard enough that he’s sure they draw blood. And somehow, that’s the impetus needed for Shiro to thrust into Keith one last time and empty himself.

 

He buries his groan against Keith’s throat, hips jerking one last time before stilling. “Keith...”

 

Keith shivers, grip relaxing. As his fingertips stroke the back of his neck, Shiro winces, causing the other man to whisper, “Sorry. I think I hurt you.”

 

Shaking his head, Shiro turns his head to kiss the wrist in his reach. “It’s okay.” His grin is sly when it’s turned towards Keith. “It felt good.”

 

“Masochist,” Keith laughs, pressing a feather-light kiss to Shiro’s lips before relaxing. As soon as Shiro’s grip slackens, Keith straightens his legs out with a pleased sigh. He stays reclined in bed, the picture perfect definition of happily debauched as he watches Shiro dispose of the used condom from under hooded eyes.

 

Shiro is a second away from flopping onto the bed before he remembers the food. “Let me grab some of the food,” he tells his waiting boyfriend, slipping on the red pair of briefs closest to him. By which he means he has to wriggle his way into the pair.

 

With a laugh, Keith points out, “You’re going to stretch them out for me.”

 

“What? You’re not going to tell me how great my ass looks in these? Or how big my dick looks?”

 

“Why bother? You seem to already know that.” Instead, Keith flicks lazy fingers towards the door. “Food please. I hope no one’s sneaked off with it.”

 

Stepping outside the room, Shiro sees that their table has been untouched. “It’s all there. What do you want?”

 

He stands in the doorway, holding the door open as he looks over at Keith. Admires the casual grace with which he stretches before relaxing further into the sheets. “Everything you can carry. Chips, chocolate, oh!” Keith flaps a hand his way, “The animal crackers. Don’t forget the animal crackers.”

 

\--

 

Lying in bed, the sheets draped over their laps, they eat some more. Talk some more.

 

While Shiro contemplates whether he’s about to eat a dog or an elephant, Keith muses, “Sometimes doing the right thing can be the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life.”

 

Confused, Shiro looks up, “What?”

 

Keith’s seated with his back against the headboard, an arm lazily draped around Shiro’s shoulder, keeping Shiro tucked against his side. He’s staring thoughtfully at the far wall, a small frown wrinkling his brow, “Something someone once told me. It just came back to me.”

 

With a tiny noise of acknowledgement, Shiro looks back down. Decides he can’t tell the difference and bites the small biscuit in half. Chews on it before asking, “What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?”

 

“I dunno. I guess living on my own after I hit 18? That wasn’t easy.” He feels Keith press his face against the top of Shiro’s head. “Working three jobs, trying to save money for college, _and_ pay the bills? It was a crazy year. I barely had time to think, much less have a social life or anything.”

 

Shiro turns, throws his arm around Keith’s chest and a leg over his lap. “Was it hard being alone?”

 

There’s a pause before Keith answers, carefully and slowly, “I was used to being alone but that was the first time I really felt _lonely_.” Shiro presses a sympathetic kiss over Keith’s heart, whispering an apology. But Keith shakes his head, “It was a long time ago.”

 

“You don’t feel that way now, right?”

 

Keith’s arm tightens around him. His warm lips press a kiss to Shiro’s white fringe. “Nope. I haven’t felt lonely ever since I met you and the others.”

 

Smiling, Shiro pushes himself up on one hand and kisses Keith. A content kiss filled with gratitude and happiness. At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. But Keith’s tongue sweeps out, firm fingers holding Shiro in place as the kiss deepens. Like he’s trying to prove a point.

 

He melts into the touch, moaning as Keith pulls him into his lap. Shiro can’t say he understands where the sudden mood change came from but he’s not ungrateful for it. He shakes when Keith yanks the sheets out of the way, crotch rolling smoothly against Keith’s cock. Moans when he feels Keith stiffening against him.

 

Fire licks against his skin, causing sweat to break out even as it dries his mouth out. “Keith,” Shiro moans against parted lips, fingers clutching at Keith. Bites on his top lip when Keith presses a finger between his cheeks, pushing the tip of his finger teasingly against Shiro’s hole. “ _Keith_.”

 

He wants. Shiro _wants_ so _badly_.

 

“Grab the lube,” Keith gasps into his ear, voice rough. Shiro happily grabs the nearest bottle, a thrill of excitement zipping through him as he gets the bottle open and pours the liquid onto Keith’s fingers. He feels air being punched out of his lungs when Keith tells him, “Hold yourself open. Show me where you want me.”

 

With a whimper, Shiro obeys. Spreads himself open, fingers clenching when Keith’s wet fingers press tauntingly against him. “Come on,” Shiro gasps, _begs_. “Fuck me already.”

 

“Patience-”

 

Shiro groan-laughs, “Don’t say it.”

 

“-is a virtue.” He feel’s Keith grin against his cheek, broad and damp. Shiro wants to complain about Keith’s sense of humor but he groans throatily instead as Keith pushes a finger in. He relaxes into the touch, sighing at the familiar feeling of being filled and stretched. Gasps when Keith crooks his finger in search of-

 

 _There_.

 

Shiro clutches the headboard, rocking his hips against Keith’s hardening dick. His grip tightens when the second finger breeches him, stomach filled with pure white heat that turns his bones liquid. Relaxes him to move against Keith with growing fluidity, gasping every time they manage to align themselves _just_ right to send sparks of pleasure shooting off in Shiro.

 

Keith takes his time prepping Shiro. Lavishing him with kisses when he’s not whispering gentle words of love and praise. “That’s it. _That’s_ it. Just relax. God, I love you. You look so good. _Sound_ so good.”

 

He’s a pliant, heavy mass senselessly rocking against Keith’s fingers, begging for Keith to please, _please_ stop teasing him already, when Keith decides to listen to him. “Put a condom on me,” Keith whispers against his ear.

 

Shaking his head, Shiro frees a hand to grab the lube again. And shakingly presses it against Keith’s chest and says, “Don’t need it. Wanna feel you.”

 

“Shiro...”

 

He shakes his head, stopping Keith from finishing his sentence. Instead, Shiro slides a hand behind Keith’s head and presses their foreheads together. And whispers, “ _Please_.”

 

Dark blue eyes peer steadily at him. Anchor him more than the palm that cups his cheek when Keith nods. Or the fingers that tighten at the nape of his neck when Keith pushes in. Shiro sucks in a shaky breath, feeling like a mass of raw, exposed nerves.

 

“Stay with me,” Keith quietly urges, grip tightening. “Stay with me, baby.”

 

But as soon as Keith is all the way in him, Shiro _needs_ to close his eyes. He loves to savor the feeling of being stretched and filled by Keith. Let the ache pulsating in him fade away into impatience and eventually pleasure. But Shiro’s not quite there yet.

 

Exhaling slowly, Shiro forces himself to relax, muscle by muscle, before opening his eyes. He stares at Keith’s flushed face and sees him struggling to be still, waiting for Shiro to center himself. It’s his turn to touch Keith’s face, pulling him into a series of short, sweet kisses meant to distract. Keeps kissing until Keith exhales, “Takashi...”

 

That’s when he pulls away, lips tingling. The sharp sting of being stretched morphs into the dull ache of wanting more. An impatient desire to give up being patient and just fuck already. It’s the sharpest form of longing which battles against the steady wall of his patience.

 

Longing that comes out in the form of running his hands over the lines of Keith’s body, admiring the strength that hides underneath all those leans muscles. Shiro rubs his thumbs against peaked nipples, teasing Keith until he starts squirming. Until he retaliates by sliding his hands down Shiro’s body, moving back to squeeze his ass and run teasing fingertips around their joining.

 

Their next kiss is a biting, hard one meant to incite the other into action. Shiro cracks first, squeezing down on Keith before shifting up, thighs trembling with effort to move smoothly. But his plans go to pieces when Keith’s grip tightens right before he thrusts up. With a gasp, Shiro drops back down.

 

Patience gets pushed aside in favor of teasing each other, using every weapon in their arsenal to draw out increasingly louder moans. At a point, Keith tries to roll them over but Shiro resists by grabbing both of Keith’s wrist in one hand and pinning them against a pillow overhead.

 

“No,” Shiro gasps, nipping at Keith’s ear before groaning. “Like this.”

 

Keith concedes, relaxing with a sigh. But his thighs remain tense under Shiro’s, thrusting up into him every time Shiro moves down. Bowing his back, Shiro leans in close to Keith. Listens to the ragged edge of his breathing, soaks in the small noises he’s choking on. Licks up the bobbing Adam’s apple in his view and gasps when one of Keith’s upstrokes hits the right spot.

 

Each thrust is deep and slow, making the mattress creak in response. Shiro feels cracks forming as the heat in his chest intensifies, spidering through him until he feels weak. His dick taps against Keith’s stomach with every move. Shiro gasps at the sight of the thin thread of precome quivering and breaking before reforming.

 

It’s so good, _so good_. He murmurs this in Keith’s ear, feeling his knees turn to jelly when it makes Keith groan in response. Shiro has to let go of Keith’s wrists and hold onto his shoulders, biting down whimpers when Keith’s hands grab his ass. Squeezing them once before sliding up his back, sighing, “Takashi...”

 

He’s running too hot. Sweat drips down his back, pools behind his knees. Shiro feels on the verge of breaking when Keith moves, slipping a hand between their slick bodies to touch Shiro’s dick. He works Shiro over, using a few precise strokes to make him come, gasping loudly into Keith’s mouth, nails digging into flushed skin.

 

The world spins along as Keith pushes him back, hands on Shiro’s hips to keep him situated neatly in Keith’s lap. Showers Shiro’s shaking body with praise and loving teases that are meant to soothe him but only make him shudder harder, toes curling into the sheets. He expects Keith to wait until he comes down before moving but no. Keith begins a gentle rocking motion that drags Shiro’s orgasm out to the fullest.

 

He’s still gasping, clutching at the sheets when Keith begins to move with renewed purpose. His hands slide up Shiro’s thighs, putting them against Keith’s shoulders. His muscles burn with effort. Shiro moans, hiding his face against a fist full of lavender-scented cotton when the sharp, lewd sound of their joining begins to ring in the room.

 

“Don’t hide,” Keith gasps from overhead. “Let me see.”

 

Shiro turns his head to look at Keith and feels gutted by the look Keith’s giving him. It’s like staring into the heart of a bonfire. There’s heat, sparks, embers. It inspires comfort and heart. It makes Shiro melt, overwhelmed by love. One hand reaches up, fingers trembling as they grasp the sweat soaked hair at the nape of Keith’s hair.

 

“I love you.”

 

Keith’s answer is a sharp bite to his left thigh. The stinging sensation makes Shiro hiss and squeeze down on the cock inside him. “Fuck!” Keith curses in return, eyes squeezing shut. He pants against Shiro leg, gasping, “Do that again.”

 

The second orgasm usually takes a while to build. But this time... it feels like he’s hard again within minutes. Gasping for air, Shiro writhes helplessly in place as Keith jack hammers into him, each thrust dragging against his prostate teasingly. His throat feels raw from all the rough noises he’s been letting out, lips dry and cracked thanks to all his pleas.

 

Shiro tosses his head, sobbing as he feels his orgasm approaching. “I’m so... I’m so close. Keith. Keith _please_. I’m...”

 

With a snarl, Keith presses in with his shoulders, almost bending Shiro in half before fucking him in earnest.  If he wasn’t delirious with pleasure, Shiro would feel a little embarrassed about all the noises pouring out of him. But as it is, those noises are the only way he can express how _utterly_ undone he is. Each thrust in is another tug on a loose thread taking him apart.

 

Shiro shudders and struggles to keep his eyes on Keith but it’s too much. He presses his chin to his chest, staring at the sight of his own aching dick. Flushed deep red and dripping pre-come into the drying mess on his stomach. He tries to touch himself but Keith slaps his hands away, linking their fingers together and pressing them back to the bed.

 

“Gonna make you come like this,” Keith promises wildly, speeding up his thrusts.

 

He opens his mouth to argue that he _rarely_ comes without being touched but Keith is intent on his task. Keith’s grip on his calves hurts. His entire body feels like one tightly wound string. Shiro lets out a series of increasingly rough, high-pitched noises the harder he reaches for his elusive second orgasm. He’s almost there. _Almost_.

 

“There, there, there,” Shiro senselessly begs, whining when Keith speeds up. “Oh! Oh _yes_!”

 

Shiro honest to god _screams_ as he comes. It’s too much pleasure dragged out for long, wonderfully, brain-breaking seconds. Something hot hits the underside of his chin but Shiro is uncaring of it. All he can focus on is not giving into the darkness creeping into his vision as Keith moans, “I’m gonna-” and thrusts one last time into him.

 

Dizzy, Shiro’s pulled under before he realizes it.

 

\--

 

He comes too when Keith’s cleaning him up with a handful of tissues, groaning at the ticklish feeling before asking if he passed out. Keith kisses his knee with a smug grin. “Told you I could make you come without being touched.”

 

With an embarrassed flush, Shiro pulls his boyfriend up to wipe that look off his face with a kiss. One kiss turns to many. Keith’s ankles press against the back of his thighs, encouraging him to take up the space between his legs. The whispered request to make love to him is not one Shiro can pass up.

 

He uses his fingers and mouth on Keith, making sure he’s thoroughly relaxed before pushing into him. Shiro swallows the soft sigh Keith exhales upon being penetrated. Smiles when it’s followed by a quiet confession and a softer still, “Slow, okay?”

 

“Slow,” Shiro confirms with a kiss.

 

After Keith has come and they’ve cleaned up, they succumb to sleep. They’ve slept for no more than a handful of hours before waking up again. This time, Shiro rolls his body against Keith and asks him to fuck his thighs. The light outside their room flickers when Keith feeds Shiro two fingers, whispering for him to squeeze his thighs together. Shiro shudders, drooling around the digits as he comes to Keith whispering, “One more, baby. Come for me one more time.”

 

They wake up again in the twilight hours, content to kiss over and over again with wandering hands. Keith brands his touch into Shiro’s ribs, hips, the underside of his jaw. Whisper-laughing at how they’re going to feel this night in the morning. Shiro dozes off to the taste of Keith’s kisses, slurring something nonsensical to Keith’s statement.

 

He’s awake a split second before Keith’s phone starts blaring its annoyingly cheerful alarm bells. They move as one to smack the alarm dead, Keith groaning, “I feel terrible. I don’t know how I’m gonna drive us back.”

 

Not feeling up to sitting on a bike for most of the day or willing to risk any accident, Shiro calls Jenny. After apologizing profusely for the very early hour, he asks her to please arrange to have a car and driver sent to pick them up.

 

“You guys are _so_ lucky I thought this might happen,” she gripes tiredly, voice rough in a way that makes Shiro wonder if that’s what she sounded like before she started her hormone treatment. “I’ll call the guy to pick you up. Send me your address. And I’ll book you guys a return ticket from the nearest airport.”

 

“What about the bike?”

 

She sighs, like she’s offended he even asked that. “I’ll send someone with the car. They’ll take it back to the shop. _Obviously_.”

 

“Just asking,” Shiro mumbles, pouting a little as he slides lower in bed. Under his arm, Keith sleepily burrows into his chest, both legs thrown over Shiro’s thigh. “When is he gonna show up?”

 

There’s a pause in which Shiro hears some papers being shuffled and the sharp chime of Jenny’s tablet booting. “I’ll have to double check but I think by 9? It’s a good thing you called right now or else it’d have been closer to noon. I’ll text you when I’ve got everything finalized. For now, sleep a little more, have breakfast, enjoy the sights. If the town has any.”

 

After he’s hung up, Shiro follows Jenny’s instructions. They sleep in another hour or so, shuffling to the bathroom for a shower when Jenny texts them to be ready by 9:30. The warm water soothes part of the ache in Shiro’s head and gently coaxes him awake. He feels relaxed and agreeable as they get dressed in yesterday’s clothes, leaning heavily on Keith as they step out of their room.

 

“‘S too bright,” Keith grumbles as they walk over to the diner, a hand shading his eyes. Shiro immediately offers Keith his cap but Keith refuses with a wave. “It’s part of your disguise. I’ll deal.”

 

The diner isn’t full but it’s busy when they step in. Their waiter cheerily rattles off the daily special, brings them coffee, and totters away with their order all within five minutes of seating them. In another five minutes, he’s coming back with two plates loaded with eggs, bacon, toast, and sausages. Sunny-side up for Keith and an egg-white omelette for Shiro.

 

Despite all the hustle and bustle around them, Shiro calls it a peaceful start to the day. No one pays them any attention, more caught up in exchanging the last day’s gossip before heading off to a new day of work. “Come again!” The waiter chirps as they head out the door.

 

“How much time we got to spare?” Keith asks, stretching his arms over his head with a low grunt, face turned up towards the warm sun.

 

Shiro checks on his phone, “30 minutes.”

 

They walk arm in arm back to the motel, dragging their heels in the hopes that it will delay the end of their short vacation. During the short journey, they bend their heads over Shiro’s phone, checking his messages and emails together.

 

Keith snorts and shakes his head when he reads that Ansa blew Lance off but he remains undeterred and more determined than before to go on a date with her. Shiro laughs when he sees Shay’s message chiding him for teasing Hunk the way they did, at which Keith snatches his phone out of his hands and types out a reply saying “We weren’t teasing! I was dead serious about my offer -K”

 

There’s a lengthy rant from Angelo complaining about the state of Shiro’s suit. A few cat videos forwarded by Allura that makes them both laugh. And some more work messages.

 

“New scripts?” Keith asks, eyes scanning the short text. “Are you already looking for new projects?”

 

With a tiny shrug, Shiro answers, “It’s easier this way. Line your ducks up, you know.”

 

“Any idea what you’re looking for?”

 

Before their little get away, Shiro had thought he’d pick something he’s been doing for the last few years. Something that’s got a good chance to be a hit, with a well-known cast and crew. Either action or romance.

 

But now... he’s thinking he’d like to take a risk or two. Try something new. Challenging. A passion project maybe. A role where he can flex his acting muscles and test his limits feels like a sorely needed tonic to rejuvenate his motivation.

 

Shiro shakes his head, tucking his phone into an empty pocket. “No idea. Just something different. Something I haven’t done before. Maybe an indie film. I’ll know when I see it.”

 

\--

 

Their ride pulls into the motel parking lot minutes before 9:30. They’re in their room when it honks twice, signalling its arrival. They’ve swept the room to make sure they cleaned their mess up as much as possible and haven’t forgotten anything.

 

They eye the food they couldn’t manage to eat and decide to leave it in the office. Shiro pouts the entire time he packs the food back into its bags.

 

“Oh stop it.”

 

“I _really_ thought we’d manage to eat it all.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Keith stuffs the uneaten chocolate bars into a bag. “We ate _half_ of all the garbage we got. That’s still a lot.”

 

Shiro grumbles it’s hardly enough. Then grins when he catches sight of the unopened bottle of lube. He holds it and the still mostly full box of condoms up with a grin, shaking it at Keith. “I wasn’t the only one who was being ambitious last night.”

 

Keith’s ears turn red, lips pressed together in way that tells Shiro he’s struggling between scowling and laughing. In the end, he avoids answering Shiro, picks up a bag of food and heads to the office. With a laugh, Shiro picks up the second bag and hurriedly follows in Keith’s foot steps.

 

As they step out of the office, they catch sight of two people beside the rental car. Both of them straighten up when they catch sight of Shiro.

 

It’s like being doused in ice cold water. Next to him, Keith’s body language immediately changes. Stiffens before carefully and slowly putting another few inches of distance between them. Shiro’s fingers itch with the desire to cross the distance and put his palm on top of Keith’s hand. But instead, he bites the inside of his cheek and walks forward.

 

“Mr. Shirogane. My name’s Barry and I’ll be your driver today.”

 

With a nod, Shiro slides into the car. On the other side of the car, Keith is approached by the second man. “Mr. Kogane. I’m Nela. I’m here to take the hoverbike back. Could you give me the keys please?”

 

Barry closes the door on him. Shiro leans towards the opposite window to watch Keith hand the key over before opening his door. He watches Keith’s gaze sweep the area, critical and guarded, before slipping into the back seat as well. The way Keith avoids looking at him causes a small twinge of pain in his chest that Shiro’s never quite learned how to deal with.

 

As soon as Barry’s in the driver's seat, Keith asks, “How long we driving?” over the thrum of the engine.

 

Barry turns onto the main road slowly, the plink-plink of the turn signal a dull beat to his words. “The nearest airport is four hours away. There’s a small plane booked to take you back to LA at 2:30.”

 

“We’ll need to stop somewhere around noon for lunch.” Barry nods at Keith’s words. “Can you turn the radio on? Top40 if you can catch it.”

 

It’s a little static-y but the music is easy enough to make out on the channel Barry puts on. It’s a talk show format, where the two male hosts are exchanging the latest celebrity news, gossip, and updates.

 

Shiro listens to it with half an ear, feeling sleep calling him when a familiar name being called out makes him turn his eyes forward.

 

“CatNico’s making a come back,” one of the host says. “The singer’s new album is set to drop just ten days from now and I think it might be her best work yet.”

 

“Agreed, John. From the two singles she released in the run up to the release, you can tell that this album is going to be a bit of a “reveal all” confessional. “Tell me” and “Saving” are both amazing songs with the kind of depth to them we haven’t seen from Cat.”

 

“How do you think it’s going to perform though?”

 

“If the rest of the tracks are as good as “Saving” then she’s got a full come back on her hands. In fact, I think this album is going to be the relaunch for her career. If she doesn’t become the next Adele, I’ll be shocked.”

 

John laughs, “You’re just saying that because you’ve been a huge fan of her from day one.”

 

“And proud of it!” The other host laughs as well. “I think people are going to realize how great of an artist she is and how her coming out hasn’t made a lick of difference to her talent stock.”

 

From inside his pocket, Shiro’s phone chimes once to signal an incoming mail. With a tired sigh, Shiro pulls the device out. An eyebrow darts up when he sees the message is from Keith, who is staring out the window with a look of feigned disinterest. Puzzled, Shiro pulls the message up.

 

_Don’t forget what we talked about._

 

Heart swelling with grateful love, Shiro exhales a quiet laugh before typing back, _I won’t._

 

Keith’s phone vibrates softly against his thigh. As he pulls up his conversation thread with Allura, Shiro watches the other man turn his wrist to check his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the small smile that’s pulling Keith’s lips up.

 

 _We need to talk about how to wrap up this whole relationship thing_ , he sends to his friend before tucking his phone away, turning his gaze out the window as well. He plants his hand in the space between them, pinkie finger out towards Keith.

 

“And next, “Saving” by CatNico,” the radio host announces, right as Keith drops his palm down on the seat as well. Shiro smiles out at the desert as Keith seals the promise by hooking their pinkies together. Their hands stay connected as the dulcet voice of the singer croons about finding the courage to love openly and stay true to herself.

 

Half-way into the song, Shiro decides he has to buy the whole album when it comes out.

 

\--

 

“Hey, space case.” Shiro starts hard enough to cause the pile of scripts sitting by his elbow to fall with a hard smack. He stares at Keith, who leans on the back of the couch and kisses Shiro’s startled expression away. “Find anything good?”

 

Instead of answering that question, Shiro asks, “When’d you get home? I didn’t hear you come in.” Looks beyond Keith towards the door with a deep frown, “There wasn’t any pap outside, was there?”

 

“Just now. You didn’t answer so I thought I’d sneak up on you. I think it was just two guys. They all know you turn into a shut in when you’re on holiday.”

 

“They didn’t ask you anything about...?”

 

“Your ‘break-up’?” Keith snorts, sliding his arms around Shiro’s shoulders as he leans in. “Yeah. They asked how you’re holding up, if you’re in seclusion because you’re heart broken, yada yada yada. Same old. What about you? Find anything good in the heap that Jenny sent?”

 

Eyeing the four scripts scattered on the floor, Shiro answers, “A couple.” Then nudges the larger pile stacked next to his crossed ankles with a toe. It wobbles in a way that reminds Shiro of a child’s bottom lip trembling mere seconds before it bursts into unhappy tears. “Most of them are duds.”

 

“SSDD?” Keith asks, making Shiro snort and nod. A few strands of his hair brush against Shiro’s ear when he nods at the script in Shiro’s hand. “What about this one?”

 

Shiro leans forward, out of Keith’s gentle hug, and pointedly drops it on top of the rejected heap, causing Keith to snort. “That good, huh? How many more you got to check out?”

 

He glances to his right, counting the remaining scripts, “Three more.”

 

“I’ll get dinner started. That gives you time to check one more out.” Keith turns his cheek towards Shiro, who laughs and kisses the proffered cheek, before straightening up. “I’ll come get you when the food’s ready.”

 

Shiro takes a moment to tip his head back on the couch and watch Keith walk away, longingly eyeing the sharp dip in Keith’s waist that’s accentuated by the crop-top his boyfriend is wearing. He’d rather be sneaking up on Keith, fingers dancing up his pale skin, lips pressing kisses to his neck, instead of sitting here trying to find another movie to work on.

 

But alas, work calls.

 

With a weary sigh, Shiro eyes the remaining scripts and spreads them across the cushion - Happy Places, the French Twist, and Springtime on Mars. He raises an eyebrow at the last one, pulling it into his lap. He runs his fingertips across the title printed across the heavy cream paper in deep red and feels a tiny thrill of anticipation run through him.

 

Shiro’s got a good feeling about this one.

 

He opens the script to the first page and starts reading.

 

\--

 

“Let’s talk about future projects,” the interviewer, Rahat, says, leaning forward in her chair. “What do you have lined up?”

 

Shiro jumps straight into his prepared answer. “Well, after I wrap up this movie, I’ll be working on Springtime on Mars. It’s the story about this guy who is really fed-up with his friends setting him up on blind-dates with people he’s got zero chemistry with. So much so that he asks an old friend for a favor and acts like his boyfriend for the holidays. I got confirmation a couple of days ago that I’ll be playing the lead guy, Danny Cho.”

 

“That’s great news! That also leads to the next and obvious question.”

 

There’s a barely restrained excitement to Rahat’s voice that makes Shiro feel like he’s walking on the razor’s edge. But he’s ready for whatever she might throw his way. And he knows that, even if he falls, there’s a safety net underneath to catch him.

 

“So, you may be aware that Jaz Khan has expressed interest in being in this movie as the fake boyfriend. How would you feel doing a romantic movie with an openly bi male actor as your character's love interest?”

 

_This is it._

 

Shiro blinks, glancing past Rahat’s eager face, the curious crew, and the bright lights. At the fringe stands Keith, peering steadily at Shiro. He gives the barest of nods, a gentle encouragement and permission to back away if that’s what he wants. But he’d decided ages ago to stop hiding. To stop making himself miserable and to be true to himself.

 

Whatever consequences that follow, Shiro will deal with them. With Keith and his friends and family by his side.

 

With a smile, the truest smile he’s directed at the camera in ages, Shiro exhales his worries out and answers, “I’d be more than okay with it, considering that I’m bi as well.”

 

Rahat looks ready to fly out of her seat with excitement. In fact, he’s surprised she doesn’t jump down with a squeal. Across the room, Shiro sees Keith smiling broadly at him. “So, you’d be open to pursuing more movies with gay characters in them?”

 

“Give me all the gay roles,” Shiro laughs before pointing out, “provided that they’re not stereotypes and are well fleshed out roles.”

 

“Speaking of romance, there’s one more question I’d like to ask before we wrap up.” He nods his head in acquisition. A sliver of light cuts through the darkness engulfing the space outside their little stage. Shiro wonders who’s come in. “It’s been half a year since you and Allura broke up. Is there anyone special in your life now or....?”

 

This time it’s a struggle not to look at Keith. Instead, Shiro smirks at Rahat and demurely admits, “There might be someone.”

 

“Someone?” Rahat asks, breathless with excitement.

 

Grinning harder, Shiro mimes zipping his mouth shut before admitting, “It’s a guy, I can tell you that. He’s a pretty private person and we both want to keep our love life out of the public eye as much as possible.”

 

Rahat asks him a few wrap up questions before the camera is turned off. The brunette is in front of him immediately, the picture of teary eyed excitement as she asks, “Are you really bi? Really?”

 

He nods and two tears fall out of her eyes, which she hurriedly swipes away with a choked laugh. “Are you okay?” Shiro worriedly asks, checking his pockets for a tissue.

 

But she waves his question away with a wide smile, “Never been better. It’s just... I’ve been a fan of yours from the start and I’ve looked up to you a lot too. So finding out that you’re bi just like me... It’s just...” Amazingly, her wide grows bigger, more wondrous as she continues, “It’s the best thing I’ve found out _ever_.”

 

It’s hyperbole but the sincerity in her voice makes Shiro duck his head bashfully. “I hope you’ll continue to support me in the future.”

 

“Of course! You don’t even need to ask. Oh, I think my crew’s all done packing up.” She sticks her hand out, a softer smile on her pink lips. “Thank you. And good luck.”

 

Shiro accepts the handshake with a wry grin, “Thanks. I’m probably gonna need it.”

 

As the crew leaves, Shiro drops back down into his chair with a groan. The magnitude of what he’s done is starting to sink in. A fine thread of panic works its way down his spine, stitching his nerves together into a pulsing clump that burns at the base.

 

He’s sitting with his eyes closed and head tipped back, fists clenched as he tries to stop his anxiety from spiralling, when he hears quiet footsteps approaching.

 

Raising his head, Shiro peers at Keith’s approaching form. Shoots him a weak smile and asks, “How’d I do?”

 

His answer is a searing kiss that sets his lungs on fire and burns his worries down to ash. A tiny noise hiccups in his chest, his hands coming up to grab Keith’s wrists as he holds Shiro in place before pulling away with a sharp smack.

 

“I’m _so_ proud of you,” Keith whispers, voice filled with fierce pride.

 

Smiling dizzily, Shiro points out, “The internet’s gonna go nuts.”

 

“Mmhmm. Too bad for the internet you’re not going to be around to see all their reactions.”

 

With a puzzled head tilt, Shiro asks, “What? Why the hell wouldn’t I be around?”

 

Keith’s grin is all teeth when he answers, “Because I’ll be keeping you busy this _entire_ weekend. You won’t have time to check your phone, baby.”

 

“Is that a promise?” Shiro’s voice a low rasp thanks to the suddenly burst of heat that birthed inside of him.

 

“It’s a promise.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> ~~holds hands out, please validate me~~


End file.
